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#when in doubt pick Pop Rocks
shotmrmiller · 3 months
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I havent a wrinkle in this brain of mine for plot, so have some porn without plot instead :)
Maybe it's because Johnny has you blindfolded, but he feels different. He's heavier on top of you and feels a bit bigger inside of you. It stings more than usual when he finally pushes his cock into your sopping cunt, swollen and tender from the four orgasms he took from you with his mouth alone. Your inner thighs burn as they stretch wider around his thick waist. When his lips meet yours, as your tongues entwine, he tastes of bourbon. He's quiet too, which is very different from the usual filth he whispers into your ear.
But when he starts rocking his hips, all thought fades, along with the ache in between your legs. His thrusts are long, pulling out until only the tip of his cock remains inside. Then he pushes forward steadily until he's pressed firmly against the entrance of your womb— making you wince slightly at the pinch. He does this tirelessly until obscene squelches emit from your cunt, that pinch deep inside of you turning into spine-tingling bliss. Your skin erupts in goosebumps when his head nudges against your sweet spot, a loud moan falling from your lips. He mutedly chuckles, his chest vibrating against sweat-slick breasts and the coarseness of his chest hair grazing your hardened nipples only heightens your pleasure.
You feel him move away from you until his cock slips out, only to vigorously grab at your hips and pull you to him. Your upper body rests on the bed, while he sits on his haunches and keeps your legs spread with his thick thighs as he slowly pushes back inside. But this time, it's not all the way. Oh, no. You know exactly what's about to happen.
"Wait-" but he doesn't. He fixedly keeps you in place at the angle he wants, the angle you need, and moves. His thrusts turn staccato— short, quick jabs— and he's hitting your spot, the one that has you going cross-eyed behind the blindfold. Your mouth is slightly open, drooling at the corner of it as you're rendered helpless against his onslaught.
The fire in your stomach blazes, every snap of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, the coil within you tightening, your body tensing. You can hear him spit— can feel a warm glob of liquid land on your mons, and dribble down to your aching, neglected clit. His thumb collects the saliva and swirls your bud under the pad of his calloused thumb rigidly.
Your spine arches off the mattress so sharply it pops as you climax, a choked scream ripping out of your throat. Your nails dig into the delicate skin of his wrists, no doubt leaving behind red welts. He doesn't stop the stimulation on your clit, his hips never falter in rhythm as he prolongs your mind-numbing pleasure.
Body going limp in his hands, you hiss in oversensitivity and swat at his hands. "Ow, love-" but he cuts you off with a searing kiss before flipping you on your knees, and to the edge of the lofty bed. You're rising to your hands when his big, rough palm pushes you down— his intent clear. With your chest on the bed, he sheathes himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke and the angle he goes in with is nothing short of devastating.
If you hadn't been wailing, you would've heard the deep, guttural noise that escaped his mouth. You can feel him in your sternum, replacing the air in your lungs. He swiftly picks up his left leg, positions it on the bed next to you, and sets a merciless pace. The force behind his thrusts rattles your very bones, leaves you breathless. You can feel the meat of your arse ripple with every slap of his hips— can feel the bruises forming in your skin under his hands.
You lift your hand to feel where he's splitting you open, fingers encasing his cock, he stiffens— swells painfully inside of you then he's coming with a snarl. His Cock twitches as it spurts his essence into you, stuffing you full and then some because you can feel his cum trickle down your legs. You try to lift yourself with quivering arms but again, you're manhandled and flipped onto your back, a squawk of indignation silenced with an all-consuming kiss. His lips move against yours feverishly, as if he's committing your taste to memory.
He finally relents, pulling away but you hold him in place with your hands cupping his face and murmur an 'I love you'. The only response you get is one you feel, as he tips his head in a nod, and then presses a kiss into your sweaty temple before moving away.
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Later, when you and Johnny are in the shower, you notice that there isn't a single scratch on his wrists even though you definitely dug your nails into him. And that reminds you.
"Johnny?"
"Aye, bonnie?"
"Since when do you drink bourbon?"
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voicesknewmyghosts · 1 year
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Safe Place
Jenna is always the person others go to for comfort, she’s the anchor that grounds people. So just who is the person that she goes to for her own comfort?
It’s late in the evening when you get the call. You had just settled on the couch with a cup of tea when your phone rings and a picture of your girlfriend cuddled up in a blanket pops up on the screen. You can’t help the smile that beams onto your face; Jenna is in Romania right now shooting Wednesday, and to say you miss the little ray of sunshine is an understatement. 
You’ve been together over a year now, and every day spent with her has truly been the best of your life. She’s so gentle, caring and kind, and she makes you feel like you could take on the world when you look at her, her big brown eyes always gazing up at you with the most love anyone could ever show someone. 
But when you pick up the phone to answer her, you know immediately something is wrong. Her voice is shaky, quiet, and you can tell she’s holding back tears when she greets you. 
“Babygirl what’s wrong?” You’re on high alert now, cup of tea forgotten as you sit on the edge of the couch, ready to fight anyone and anything that’s upset your girl. 
“I just-“ her voice breaks, and along with it your heart “it’s too much y/n, it just feels all too much right now.” 
She erupts into sobs, and you do all you can to calm her down all while feeling your heart shatter into a million pieces at every gut wrenching cry. You tell her over and over again all the sweet things you can think of, telling her she’ll be okay and that you’re there for her, that she’ll get through this. 
It feels like infinity has passed before the sobs turn into sniffles and the broken girl at the other end of the line quietens down. 
“Oh Jenna.” Is all you can say, unable to think of anything that is capable of showing how much you want to just come and wrap her up in your arms and protect her from the world. 
You both sit in silence for a while, content with the other's company. You can hear Jenna shuffle under her blankets; no doubt wrapping herself up like a burrito like she does at home, which makes the smile return to your face as you imagine her head poking out of the huge mountain of blankets that she no doubt had on top of her. 
A thought pops into your head; one forged by the longing to have your girl in your arms. Its a crazy one; part of you doesn’t even want to bring it up to Jenna in fear of getting her hopes up, but the more you think about her alone in a room in Romania sobbing her heart out and feeling like the world is crushing her spirit the more you think you can make it work. 
“Jenna, how would you feel if I booked a flight to come visit?” 
You hardly even finish your sentence before the excited “yes!” screams out of your phone's speakers and less than an hour later you have your flight booked for the next day and your girl falls asleep with a smile on her face for the first time in a while. 
Jenna can’t stop the excitement she feels knowing you’re going to be here the next day. Sleep becomes a distant memory as she messages the cast group chat telling them they’re going to finally meet the woman she can’t shut up about. Joy is the first to respond, with a bunch of heart emoji’s and how excited she is to meet you. Emma, Hunter and Georgie soon follow, all equally ecstatic. Jenna just can’t wait to pick you up from the airport; you have a way of making her feel so safe and grounded that no one else has ever come close to achieving. She loves being the rock for her friends - she truly does, knowing they come to her for a pep talk or a hug when they’re feeling anxious about an interview or an upcoming scene - it makes her feel good in herself knowing she’s the person that other people find comfort in. But, she gets anxious too, and the only person she ever feels like she can truly be vulnerable and protected with is finally going to be in her arms in less than 12 hours. 
You see her before she sees you. She’s wrapped in a big coat, dyed black hair up in a messy bun, eyes scanning the room for any sightings of you. You can see a security guard with her, keeping his distance respectfully. She takes your breath away, so much so you stop dead in the middle of the airport, unable to tear your eyes away from the woman who stole your heart. 
The second she has eyes on you she’s running, jumping into your arms and wrapping her limbs around you tight, like your very own koala bear. You drop your bags and wrap your own arms around her, holding her tight to you and breathing in the scent that you missed so much. The world around you both seems to stop, the only thing existing is each other. Having her in your arms once more is the best feeling in the whole universe and you never want to let her go. 
Sadly, a subtle cough from Jenna’s security lets her know it's time to go, and she begrudgingly unwraps herself from around you. Then she looks up at you with those beautiful brown eyes and you feel your breath being stolen from your lungs as she tugs on your arm, leading you out of the airport and towards where she calls home for the next few months. 
She clings to you in the car, her head resting on your shoulder as you hold her hands in yours, rubbing gentle circles on the soft skin of her palm. You can’t help but stare at her the whole way, unable to tear your eyes away from the person who makes you happiest in this world. You can see the tiredness behind her eyes though; you can see how exhausted she is, how much pressure she has had put on her shoulders with this new project of hers. 
Of course, you’ll always support Jenna in everything she does, that will never be in doubt. But when you had that call from her and when you can see just how exhausted mentally and physically she is; you just wish you could take it all away and shelter her from all of the pressure.
You arrive at the cast's hotel not long after Jenna closes her eyes and her head drifts from your shoulder down to your lap. You hate to wake her, knowing the ridiculously early starts and long days she has. You make a decision while staring down at the sleeping beauty and quietly ask the security guard who drove you whether there was someone who could help with your bags. Once he confirms yes, you gently slide out from Jenna’s death grip and open her door, cradling her into your arms as she grumbles something about wanting to sleep more. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you at how cute Jenna looks cradled in your arms, her arms flailing around until they find their target: a death grip around your neck. You give her a quick kiss on the forehead and shush her as she starts to grumble again and follow the security guard to Jenna’s apartment. 
Placing Jenna gently down on her bed, you get her changed into some comfy pyjamas before quickly doing the same for yourself. You leave your bags in the living room, deciding that getting into bed with your girl is the only priority right now; unpacking can be left until she’s working the following morning. 
Your heart soars as she reaches for you the second the bed dips signalling your arrival. Her arms wrap around your shoulders and her legs entwine with yours; her hot breath sending tingles down your spine as it tickles the side of your neck. You give her a quick kiss before succumbing to sleep yourself, finally feeling like a piece of you has been returned. 
The alarm rips through the peaceful silence that had fallen over the room. You’re sure you only fell asleep two minutes ago, but judging by Jenna frantically flailing around for her phone to shut off the noise and groaning to herself, you can imagine this is the early start she’s been telling you about.
How she does this everyday is completely beyond you. 
You reach out a gentle hand to rub the tired back in front of you, and you smile to yourself as Jenna seems to relax a little under your touch, almost as if she had to remind herself that this is real, that she’s not alone anymore. 
“Good morning my love.” Her voice is groggy and deep as she leans over to place a kiss on your lips. Her small hands frame your face, her eyes staring into yours. 
This is all you wanted out of life; to find someone who you would travel to the ends of the earth for, and who would do the same for you. Looking into Jenna’s exhausted eyes as you stroke her hair, you know you would do anything to keep this girl from any and all harm. 
“Come on darling,” you begin, kissing her chin, “let's get you some breakfast.” 
Jenna tries to fight you, telling you you should get back in bed and sleep, but she’s fighting a losing battle as you’re already up and out of bed, thoughts of what you can make for your girl flooding through your mind. 
You let Jenna get herself ready in the bathroom as you cook a nice big breakfast out of the things she has in her fridge. You know she hasn’t eaten well since she got here, so you make a promise to yourself that once she’s at work you’ll head into town and get some groceries so you can get as much food in her as possible. 
Just as you finish plating up your breakfasts, the door to the bathroom opens and out comes the picture of beauty; the smile she has on her face is enough to knock you to the floor, but you manage to stay upright. Even with no makeup on and looking as exhausted as she does, she is the most beautiful woman in the world in your eyes, no doubt about it. She strides over to you and stands on her tiptoes with her hands gripping either side of your face and kisses you with a fervent intensity that leaves you breathless and gasping for more. Breakfast is almost forgotten as you reach for her hips, ready to pick her up and toss her into the bedroom until a small hand on your chest stops you dead in your tracks, and when you look at the woman capable of destroying you and piecing you back to together bit by bit, the smirk she has on her face tells you all you need to know. 
Be good, and I’ll reward you later. 
It’s unspoken; it normally is - Jenna has a way of looking at you and conveying anything she needs you to know without saying a single word. You know if you play your cards right and behave today that you might just end up getting the one thing you both have been endlessly craving for the last few months apart. With a wink and a sway of her hips, Jenna takes a seat at the table while you place her food in front of her and take a seat next to her. You interlace your fingers together while you eat in comfortable silence, content with the company of your favourite person. 
Before you know it, there’s a knock on the door and Jenna is sighing while getting up, collecting her things for the day while you begin cleaning up. 
“I’ll see you later.” She mumbles into your chest as you pull her in for a hug. 
“You will indeed.” You kiss her forehead and open the door for her, waving to her as she does the same. And then she’s gone; off to work until she’s utterly exhausted and spent only to do it all over again the next day. You wish she didn’t have to work so hard; you wish you could somehow make this experience easier on her mental health, but you know that she loves this job, and sadly the toll of working in this industry is well known. 
But, what you can do is be somewhere Jenna can come to relax, to be vulnerable and to let all of the pressure slide off her shoulders. And so, with a little smile to yourself, you get ready to head into town to get groceries. 
It may not be much, but if you can take care of Jenna in all the small ways she hasn’t had the energy to do herself, then you can go to sleep happy knowing that at least with you, Jenna is taken care of. 
And that at least with you, Jenna has her safe place.
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damiansgoodgirll · 8 months
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can you do damian priest x reader where they traveling to another state by car to smackdown and he gives her the passenger princess treatment and takes her to Dunkin for breakfast
this is me everytime my best friend is driving
for those who don’t know (you all should know this but) lemonade and renaissance are beyoncé’s album, i’m telling you this for the plot lol.
damian priest x reader
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renaissance
“oh no, no, no not renaissance again y/n…” damian told you before you could let the first song of the album start “we just finished lemonade and if i hear beyoncé’s voice once again i’m gonna explode” he joked but there was a little bit of seriousness in his voice.
when you first started tagging along with damian you two were just friends so you never said anything about his music taste, you two would just simple listen to his music and have a normal conversation while driving towards your next destination.
you weren’t a car fan, the opposite, you hated long hours, sat in a seat where you couldn’t even move but damian helped you make car rides a little bit easy but he also knew how impatient you would get if you were sat in the same spot for more than two hours.
so sometimes he would just turn off the music to have a deeper conversation with you, in order to distract you.
not now though, the two of you were dating and he just grew used to your car routine.
he knew you weren’t a huge fan of his music so, from time to time, he would let you pick some of your favorite artists so you wouldn’t feel left out.
but it became more of your music than his own and he had no idea how to stop it. you wouldn’t let him change music, whether it was beyoncé or rihanna, he wasn’t a pop fan but you pretended you didn’t know so you could just sing to your fav tunes.
“pretty please?” you asked him.
“no…three more hours and i won’t be spending them listening to beyoncé…” he said.
“but it’s renaissance…” you said.
“just a little bit of rock and metal…i need them. i need my energy back” he said, his eyes not leaving the road.
it was raining outside and the music helped you cheering you up. you were sat in the passenger seat for already two hours and you knew you wouldn’t be arriving soon, you couldn’t handle it if you didn’t have your music.
“renaissance would give you so much energy if you only give it a chance!” you said hoping he would let you pick the music, again.
“no, it just give me headaches…” he said.
now you were mad.
“fine…i’ll be sleeping if you need me so don’t bother to call me” you said before lowering the hood of your hoodie over your eyes and nose so you wouldn’t be watching the road, and damian.
he simply laughed at your reaction.
before you could close your eyes you heard beyoncé’s voice and you immediately jumped on your seat.
“you were acting like a baby…” he teased you.
“but you love it” you teased him back.
“no i don’t but i rather see you happy than all pouty and mad like a toddler” he said and you smiled, knowing that in one way or another, you would get what you want.
“don’t act like you don’t like renaissance…i see you singing the songs too!” you caught him by surprise.
“i really don’t know what you’re talking about…” he whispered.
you simply laughed at him, trying to adjust yourself in your seat. you were really uncomfortable and damian noticed it too. his hand went to slowly massage your thigh in a calm way, trying to ease you down.
“my ass is becoming flat…” you said and he laughed.
“i doubt it…we’re gonna stop in a few minutes, you need to eat something since you were too tired complaining this morning and you skipped breakfast…” he teased you once again.
“i wasn’t complaining, i was just tired….” you whispered back. his bombastic side eye made you laugh “don’t look at me like that, i’m not lying…”
“sure…anyway, there’s a dunkin in twenty minutes, we’re gonna stop so your majesty could talk a walk and drink all the caffeine she needs” he made you laugh.
once you’ve arrived at your favorite place, you jumped out of the car and went straight into the shop, ordering probably too many sweets and coffee.
“who’s gonna eat all of that?” damian teased you once you received your order. his hands moving to your hips, almost teasing you.
“me because i can’t believe we still have three hours, i’m gonna get so bored even if we go through the whole beyoncé’s discography”
“yup, you better eat because i’m not listening to lemonade once again” he joked before you two moved to the car.
he gently opened the door for you and went back into the driver seat. his hand was back on your thigh and that made you smile even more.
in the end, driving with damian wasn’t that bad, if you were the one deciding tho.
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jhutchismyl0verb0y · 2 days
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Mike Schmidt music taste headcannons
(Mike is same age as in the FNaF movie, but this takes place in 2024, gn!reader, pre established relationship, abby mentioned, marijuana use, little nsfw at the end)
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FAV GENRES AND ARTISTS
♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡
Rap : Nicki Minaj.
~"Uh babe...? What is this song?" he smiles and looks at you. "It's 'the night is still young' by Nicki Minaj." He turns the volume up as he drives. "You listen to Nicki Minaj??" He chuckles. "Yeah. I've been to one of her concerts, actually. It was really fun." He continues singing along to the lyrics as you make your way to pick up Abby from school.
~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~
Latin pop: Selena Quintanilla
~You and Mike were looking over his old vhs tapes from high school because you recently bought a vhs player from a yard sale. You spotted something out of the usual (Green day, Nirvana, ac/dc) : A Selena vhs tape. Her debut album. "Omg, Mike. Do you like Selena?" You exclaim and look at him. " I used to love her in high school. Something my grandmother used to listen to. Comforting, you know?" He says calmy. "Wanna listen?" "Hell yeah."
~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~
Rock: Nirvana, AC/DC, Aerosmith, Foo Fighters, KISS
~ Mike literally just jams out to rock, like, 24/7. Rock is his top genre for a reason. Driving? Rock. Cooking? Rock. Showering? Rock. Getting high? Rock. Fucking? Rock. Rock is his life. It's his 3rd favorite thing in life. Behind you and Abby. (It's a close call, though)
~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~
~ you and him share some similar music taste, so when your favorite artist releases a new vinyl, he buys the vinyl and suprises you with it when you get home from work.
random music related bf!mike × gn!reader headcannons.
~ abby was singing some nirvana while coloring, and it happened to be some weird ass lyrics (as usual) her teacher overheard her. Let's just say it ended in a call with the teacher and mike...
~ whenever abbys is out of the house, Mike smokes weed. He doesn't want her growing up around smoking like he did. He always sat out on the back porch, with his music on a speaker, and singing along to the lyrics as he gets as high as a kite.
~ Mike almost strictly wears band shirts. He especially loves it when you take them and wear them.
~ whenever you guys are feeling like a cheesy romantic couple, you slow dance in the living room to old hits from when you were kids.
~ his vinyl, cd, and vhs collection is HUGE. like I'm talking a whole ass multi-level shelf for all of his music stuff. 2 record players, one vhs player, a CD player, and an old boombox, a few Walkmans and an iPod.
~ he perfers spotify for mobile listening, but at home, vinyls.
~ he tried to start a band in high-school because he was half decent at playing bass guitar. He can still sorta play it.
-----------------------nsfw-----------------------
~ he plays music during sex without a doubt. Unless it's a quickie or not in your bedroom or in the shower, there's usually music. Most of the time it's just backround, but sometimes he fucks you to the beat.
~ Sometimes, when you guys have sex and listen to music and he tries to listen to those songs after, he can only picture you. Sweaty, tired and blissed out from his dick.
~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~◇~♡~
This was my first published fic and I hope yall enjoyed. I plan on making more of these.
Lmk if you want tags in the future (man).
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george-weasleys-girl · 9 months
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HIII i'm so excited okay so i requested this from another fic writer as well but i wanna see different takes on this:
for backstory: fred and the reader haven been in a close, loving and trusting relationship for the past months. nothing can break them apart.
the fic i'm requesting now is for fred to be at a party the reader isn't at, but seeing another person polyjuiced into them flirting with someone else to make him jealous. maybe that person is trying to break them up or just drunk idrc.
fred however knows and trusts y/n and immediately knows this isn't them !! i'd love to see your take on how he'd react, super excited to read it <33
Such a fun request! Thank you for sending it in.
Fred Weasley x fem reader
~•~
The Doppelganger
"I'm not even on call tonight," Y/N grumbled, changing out of the new dress Fred had gifted her and back into her work clothes.
"Maybe it's something really nasty," Fred suggested. "And, face it, my love, you're the best."
"Well, the best should have Saturday night off so she go to a party with her boyfriend."
"Would it help if I promise to be miserable the whole time?"
Y/N sighed and sat down next to Fred. "No. I want you to go and have fun. I'm just disappointed I can't go with you."
"I know, love," Fred wrapped his arm around her. "I am too." Then he paused, thinking. "How about we go to brunch tomorrow at that little muggle cafe you like so much?"
"Ooh! The one with the really good omelets?"
"That's the one," Fred grinned, then leaned in for a kiss. "Now, you better go before somebody does something stupid and turns the Ministry into goo."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Y/N giggled.
~•~
Y/N had only been gone fifteen minutes, and Fred was already missing her. He wasn't kidding when he said he'd have a miserable time without her. It was a phenomenon that had only happened one other time in his life. But that was long since over, and he hadn't been interested in anyone seriously until Y/N walked into the shop almost a year ago.
She was one of the Ministry's lead magical librarians, responsible for the preservation and translation of ancient magical texts, some of which have dark magic woven within seemingly harmless phrases or paragraphs. It was her job to find those passages and nullify the magic within them. It was a dangerous and thrilling occupation, and his girlfriend was one of the best in the field. That was why she was working on a Saturday night instead of accompanying Fred to the biggest party of the year.
Fred sighed and picked up her little red dress that was still puddled on the floor and placed neatly across the bed. If she managed to get out early enough, she'd stop by home to change and then head over to join him.
~•~
Fred wasn't as miserable as he'd feared. George and his fiancé were at the party too, and they ended up pulling him out onto the dance floor with them. They were dancing like a trio of fools to Rock the Casbah when he spotted a familiar face and a brilliant smile spread across his own.
"Hey, Y/N's here. I'll be right back," he patted George on the shoulder and went to go greet his newly arrived girlfriend. However, as he got closer, he realized something was very, very wrong. This woman looked like Y/N, but she was most definitely not his girlfriend.
First off, she didn't move right. Y/N had an effortless grace about her. This woman's movements were clumsy and disjointed. Like she couldn't figure out how her arms and legs were supposed to work.
Second, instead of her new dress, she wore a shimmery, silver one similar to the 60s mod dress Y/N had worn on Halloween when they'd dressed up as Austin Powers and Vanessa Kensington.
And thirdly, the thing that put the nail in the coffin for him, some random guy had his arm around her, kissing down the length of her neck. He knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that whoever this person was, she was not his beloved Y/N.
"Who the fuck is that?" A voice popped up next to him. Fred turned to find George's fiancé standing beside him on her tiptoes, with his twin right behind her. "Because that sure as hell isn't Y/N."
"No. No, it isn't," Fred muttered and started to move toward the strange woman when she turned, looked him straight in eyes, and gave him a sly, seductive grin before resuming her make-out session.
The older twin stopped dead in his tracks. He knew that grin. It wasn't Y/N's, but it was so strikingly familiar. He wracked his brain but just couldn't place it.
~•~
"Polyjuice potion most likely," George said. They'd moved to a back corner of the room away from most of the partygoers to discuss this unexpected new twist.
"Yeah, but why? And how'd she get one of Y/N's hairs?" Fred asked.
"Maybe they work together?" His twin's fiancé suggested.
"No idea," Fred focused his gaze back on the fake Y/N, who now had her tongue down the guy's throat. "But I'm gonna find out." With that, he turned and pushed his way through the crowd. If whoever this is wants to play this game, he thought. Then, let's play it.
He grabbed the guy's collar and pulled him off the fake Y/N. "That's my girlfriend you're kissing."
The poor fellow turned three shades of pale and all but ran away from the redhead towering over him. Fred watched him go and then shifted his attention to his girlfriend's doppelganger.
"You," he stared down at her. "With me. Now."
The woman smirked and followed him outside. Once they were far enough away from the crowd, Fred rounded on her. "Who the hell are you? And why are you pretending to be Y/N?"
"What do you mean, pretending?" She stepped forward, putting her hands on his chest. He swiped them away.
"I know my girlfriend, and you are not her."
"Freddie, baby," she cooed. "Why do you say such things?"
"Because Y/N wouldn't be snogging some random bloke at a party.
She shrugged. "I just had a little too much to drink. I was stressed after dealing things at the Ministry."
"So, why didn't you - " Fred's heart skipped a beat. "How did you know she's at the Ministry?"
The woman laughed. "Maybe you're the one who's had too much to drink, Honeybuns."
Fred stood frozen in place. There was only one person who'd ever called him that. "Belinda?"
She and Fred had been "fuck buddies" when he met Y/N. It was supposed to be a no-strings attatched situation. But apparently, Belinda had developed feelings for him at some point and proceeded to spend the next couple of months harrassing Y/N and trying to get him back. When nothing worked, she just dropped off the face of the earth. Fred and Y/N assumed she'd given up. Apparently, they were wrong.
Belinda rolled her eyes. "Fine," she sighed. "It's me. Aren't you the smart one? Go you."
Fred rubbed a hand over his face. "How the fuck did you even do this? How did you get one of Y/N's hairs?" A sudden chill ran down his spine. "Have you been stalking her?"
"No, not really," she replied with a flippant air. "But it's not hard to find out where she works. Your little cupcake has made quite the name for herself."
Fred's eyes blazed. "How. Did. You. Get. One. Of. Her. Hairs?" The edge in voice caused Belinda to take a couple of steps back.
"Well, if you must know," she replied, maintaining a safe distance. "A friend of mine also works at the Ministry. She swiped it from Y/N's coat while they were in the elevator together one morning."
"And tonight?" Fred took a step toward her. Belinda took another step back. "Did you have something to do with that?"
She shrugged. "My friend is such a ditz. She mixed up some paperwork..."
Fred cut her off. "So, you mean to tell me, you did all that just to come here and try to break up me and Y/N?"
By now, the Polyjuice was wearing off, and Belinda was shifting back to herself. "Did it work?" She asked. Her voice was no longer Y/N's but a high-pitched drawl that Fred had once thought cute, but now turned his stomach.
"Seriously?" He spat. "In what demented world do you think that would work?"
"Guess not. Worth a shot."
"Look," Fred sighed. "We're over. We've been over. I'm really sorry you got hurt, I never wanted that to happen. But, there's nothing that you can say or do that's ever going to make me leave Y/N. Do you understand?"
~•~
"Yeah. Whatever," she huffed. The last bit of Polyjuice faded away, leaving Belinda standing before him, an arrogant sneer plastered across her face. Fred shook his head, wondering how he was ever attracted to her. "Just stay away from me," he warned. "And stay away from Y/N. Or next time, I'll hex the fuck out of you."
Belinda laughed. "You would never."
Fred's eyes went cold, and when he spoke, his voice was like subdued thunder, ominous and threatening. "Try me."
A half hour later, Fred apparated back into his and Y/N's flat and collapsed on the sofa. After his altercation with Belinda, he didn't feel much like partying anymore.
About ten minutes later, a loud pop sounded next to him. "Hey lovey. What are you doing home so early?" Y/N's soft voice brought a smile to his face.
"Long story," Fred sat up and patted the cushion beside him. "How bad was the paperwork fucked up?"
Y/N rolled her eyes and flopped down next to him. "It was 17 levels of stupid. Maven was supposed to be on call tonight, not me. And somebody left a scroll open in the - " Y/N paused. "Wait. How did you know about the paperwork?"
Fred chuckled. "Part of my long story," he put his arm around her, pulling her closer. "I'm starving. What do you say we order in pizza, and you can tell me about your night, and I'll tell you about mine?"
Y/N smiled up at him. "Sounds perfect."
~•~
@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @charmedfandomgal @loveosewood @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass
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manicrouge · 2 months
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See You Again
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[ᴋʏʟᴇ ɢᴀʀʀɪᴄᴋ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]
[ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ]: 15/02/24
[ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ]: After being confirmed KIA, you finally meet with the man who you believed was simply a spirit.
[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ]: 1.3k
[ᴛᴡ]: Lots of angst squeezed into very few words, discussion of grief, i don't think there's anything else.
[ᴀ/ɴ]: I really loved this and I didn't want this to go to waste so I thought I would post the original ending to the Swing Set before I ended up changing it !! There are no spoilers as the plot is completely different to what this is- I hope you enjoy it !!
However, if you're interested in the new story, the link is here !! I'd really appreciate it as I'm working hard on it and the first chapter is up :))
SERIES MASTERLIST
Please don't post my work anywhere else without my permission !!
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There's something in your throat but you can't quite place it.
You're overcome with a flood of emotion, you have been for a while as you sit in an empty park, rocking backwards and forwards on a swing which creaking would, on any other day, make you uneasy. Yet, you can't hear it through the thudding of your heart in your ears and your concentration on your hands as you press them together, their clamminess cooling with a gentle gust of wind which nudges a few stray locks of hair off of your shoulders.
The sky is pink, settling into an orange, all for the transition to end in a crude splash of redness as the sun acts as an eye and stares over you, basking you in a golden light which you think you're undeserving of in that moment. Her eyes keep you warm, and despite the goosebumps on your arms you feel as though your body is on fire as you sit and wait. The occasional person passes by with their dog, or even alone, you hear their footsteps but you don't see them.
You're ashamed to say that you know when you have to look up, the sound of the footsteps you await are so similar that you blush at the fact that you even know them. But when you've spent forever with someone, you suppose it's something natural. You come to understand the way they function without ever really questioning it: how they stand, how they speak, how they smile, everything is there, and you've been lost without having that humanity to distract you from everything in your current life.
You're shaking, your mouth puffing out as you attempt to fight off the urge to vomit and ruin the dress you have picked out especially for this occasion. You're sure he's seen worse, but you don't care. You fight for composure as though it's the only thing that will keep you alive, yet, the longer you spin around with ideas in your head, you find that the string of sanity is slowly unravelling, succumbing to become that of a entanglement of lunacy.
What if he doesn't like me? Have I changed too much for him to like me?
Self doubt is a killer, worse than any virus and you know that as you feel as though your heart is one more horrible thought away from popping. Bringing your clammy hands to your face, you rub it and let out a sigh as you slowly swing backwards and forwards on the swing. Your feet are firmly planted against the ground, pushing you to and from. The sensation only really aids in your nausea, however, you still persist and you find it strange,
Another breath escapes you as you hear the creak of a gate. It's louder than the occasional squeal emitted by the swing you're sitting on, although, you don't lift your head until you hear the heavy plodding of boots against the ground. There used to be a time whee you would have sprung to your feet and greeted him, only, this time, you don't do that. You remain where you're sitting, maintaining the same pace on the swing.
There's a heavy thud from beside you, the fabric of a duffle bag landing on the side of the swing set. Then the chains rattle as he settles down, the same squeal from your swing set coming from the swing he's sitting on. For a moment, you think the pair of you are just going to sit in silence. Perhaps that's for the better, seeing each other without saying anything you know might hurt him.
'I'm sorry,' he says, the vibration of his voice from beside you almost ratting all of your bones from out of their sockets, rendering you a pool of goop on the floor. 'I made a mistake, should've called you- done something than leaving you in the dark for months,' he adds with a short nod.
Your eyes sting as you nod, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. It's impossible, really, to find something to say to him. A tear clings to your lower lashes as you continue to nod.
'You look nice,' he stiffly follows up.
Still, you nod.
You find it difficult to do anything else as your throat tightens. The longer you look down, the worse the cloudiness in your eyes grows as a tear finally drips down your face, landing on one of the printed strawberries on your dress. You want your madness to persist, you want to have the guts to stand up and scream at him for everything, yet, you know you're not capable of doing that.
'I-I—'
You lift your head to look at him. It's been a while since you've seen him in person, and for a while, you have thought you'd be forever destined to see all his gorgeous features in a picture frame. Yet, here he is, sitting right in front of you. The rise of his chest should be confirmation enough that he is in fact before you and living, but, you don't quite believe it.
So, in an act of bravery, you wipe your hand on the skirt of your dress and reach out your hand to touch his which is holding the chain on the swingset. Warmth greets your fingertips, and his skin moves as you press your fingers into his hand. He doesn't say anything, instead, he watches you.
Pulling your hand away, you move swiftly as you stand up from where you're sitting, taking a step so you're in front of him before wrapping your arms around him tightly. You bury your face into the nape of his neck, inhaling the scent of battle which really brands the both if you in that moment.
Finally, you allow yourself the pleasure of letting out all the emotions as you sob.
His arms wrap around you tightly, and as you knees weaken and your entire body sets alight, he holds you up. You hope your sobs are muffled, although, you find that you care very little as you puff away, cupping his face in your hands. Any form of malice dissipates as you look at him, seeing his face is marked with the same tears as yours- knowing that he has grieved the loss of you just as you had him.
'You're alive,' you cry, looking at him.
His face settles in your hands and you press your finger tips into his cheeks attempting to chase away all the doubt clouding your mind. You can feel him, his body and his eyes on you- everything. He's here with you and the pair of you are alive.
'I'm sorry, lovie,' he exhales, his bottom lip trembling as he takes a moment to look at you. 'You didn't deserve anythin' that happened an- an—'
'Shut up, Kyle,' you firmly say, looking at him, 'you're here, you're here and that's all I want,' you confirm, a stuttering breath passing your lips as your heart thuds against your chest. 'I know you couldn't have told me the truth.'
'It was torture,' he confesses, 'knowin' you thought I was dead and- I'll never ever be able to forgive myself for doing that to you,' he rambles.
His words, while meaningless in that moment also mean everything. Hearing the sound of his voice from him rather than the speaker of your phone means everything.
You continue to cry, you can't help it. Even when he leans forward and places his lips on yours, the pair of you are a crying mess as you embrace each other. It doesn't matter if your skin is on fire, what matters is that he's right here with you, his lips pressed on yours. And even if you were to set alight in that moment, you are sure that the summer breeze will subdue the flame- at least, long enough for you to call his name.
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ckret2 · 2 months
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i know you’ve talked about bill’s music tastes before, but do you have any head cannons for other characters’ music tastes?
i.e. do you think mabel would listen to vocaloid?
Mabel: here's what we know about her tastes.
She loves Dream Boy High; Dream Boy High's VCR tape design has nods to Jem & the Holograms, which has a million songs per episodes; Mabel has Xyler & Craz play synth music to defeat Bill; Mabeland plays 80's music. She's into extremely 80's-sounding synth-heavy pop. The music she plays in dream realms is the music closest to her heart. This is the core of her musical tastes.
There's something subtly, inexplicably different about music made for cartoons vs contemporary popular music, even when they're trying to portray the same genres. I can't describe what that quality is, but it's there. Anyway, if the core of Mabel's musical tastes is rooted in or near Dream Boy High, then she probably listens to other 80s cartoon soundtracks.
She's into 2010s acts that are throwbacks to late-1990s boy bands. She'd probably also like actual 90s boy bands.
She's fluent in modern top 40 music—which is no doubt where she she picked up Sev'ral Timez. I see her as the kind of kid who just keeps the radio on all the time. (And I do mean the radio—she didn't get a phone til the end of last summer, we see her with CDs, she probably had a radio long before she tried streaming.)
She's also fluent in classic rock ballads, but it's not her preference. She's a "grew up listening to the radio stations her parents picked on a car ride" kid. I suspect her dad plays 70s/80s pop in the car (cementing her primary musical tastes) because there's another Pines into synth pop so I've decided it's genetic, and her mom plays the classic rock. Mabel knows Don't Start Unbelieving from Mabel & Mom karaoke nights.
Dipper: if Mabel grew up listening to her parents' picks on the car radio, so did he. This is where he picked up his love for BABBA. From this we can deduce that, if their dad is the 70s/80s pop music parent, their dad probably drives them around more than their mom. I think you could safely give him other disco bands as well.
He plays the sousaphone but every band kid I've ever known treats band more like a musical sport than like a musical genre—the super passionate ones might practice extra and might watch other bands' performances, but they didn't just sit around listening to marching band music for fun. However, he also practices during the summer, even though he's in another state and obviously not participating in any summer band activities, which suggests an unusual passion for marching band. I still don't think he just listens to marching band music for fun but he probably keeps hearing songs and going "oh wow I've never heard the original before, only the band version."
He picked up a couple of indie folk bands to try to impress Wendy but he's not super into them.
Ford: He was on the absolute cutting edge of new wave & synth pop in the 80s. He was into the obscure stuff. Somewhere in the shack is a pile of cassettes by new wave acts the rest of the world has completely forgotten. He and Mabel trade music recommendations: he gives her the obscure as hell stuff and she tells him about all the cool new* (*post-1982) bands he never got to see. Mabel prefers peppier songs and he prefers moodier songs but there's a HUGE overlap between their tastes.
In a better, portal-less world, Ford's taste in new wave would have had time to drift into dark wave and cold wave, and from there slid over sideways to discover goth rock. There's an unhatched trad goth somewhere in his soul. He should have been listening to Sisters of Mercy, Bauhaus, and The Cure. He should have gotten a black trench coat because he thought it would make him feel cool, not because he was an interdimensional criminal on the run. It's not too late for him to discover it now, but by now he should have made it miles beyond the major 80s goth rock acts, gone down half a dozen increasingly obscure genre alleys, and be burrowed deep into some weird sub-sub-sub-genre of EBM you and I have never heard of.
He has a love/hate relationship with All Star.
Stan: He liked hanging out at a 50s-themed diner in the 70s. He likes 50s music. I also think he picked up a fair amount of Spanish-language 50s rock-and-roll while abroad. Once like five years ago Soos overheard Stan playing a record and singing a song Abuelita plays and it cemented his ambition to reverse-adopt Stan as his dad.
Soos: Popular hip hop and anime/video game soundtracks. Every rap song he knows has been on the Billboard Hot 100 but on the other hand he has the demo version of the extended version of the ending theme of an anime from 2001 that was never fully released outside Japan and he's probably got a fifteen-minute story about why he knows this song even exists. He's puzzled through the shipping info of a Japanese CD website to get the official soundtrack of the most dogshit anime you could imagine. He's spent a week pouring through anime convention forums trying to track down a song he overheard someone use as their background music at a cosplay contest. Lots of 8-bit.
Wendy: You know the stomp clap hey genre? That. I have nothing further to add, you know what I'm talking about. Her heart yearns to escape to hipster city. She didn't even like Robbie's music when they were dating, she just thought it was cool he made it.
I'm not gonna go through every character I have headcanons for, you don't need all that on one post. Anyway, have a work in progress playlist. It's rigorously organized. "😀😀😀 Character Name 😀😀😀" is what each character would like listening to, "😀 Zodiac Symbol 😀" is songs about each character, "🪐🪐🪐 Flatland 🪐🪐🪐" is backstory stuff, "🌎 Earth 🌎" is either songs I need on this playlist for the vibes or songs that belong in one of the other categories but I haven't sorted them yet. Some of the sections are still empty. I think this is forgivable since the playlist is already 11 hours long.
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kittyball23 · 4 months
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Hello! I would like to request a fanfiction where Branch prepares a nursery for his first child and has a heart-to-heart moment with Poppy when he feels doubtful about his readiness to become a father. Poppy, who is carrying their unborn child (as an egg in her hair), comforts him that he will be a wonderful father as long as they raise their baby together.
Would you be able to do this for me? If you're busy with other requests, that's fine, just let me know when you have time. Thank you! 😊
Yes indeed, here it is 🙂
Doubts (a Trolls fanfic)
Branch wasn’t usually wrong about things. But in the occasion that he was, there was usually good reason for it. He remembered the rather sarcastic remark he’d made when venturing to Vacay Island, declaring that their adventure right then and there was their ‘most fun mission.’
Well, this wasn’t the case.
It wasn’t anything to get him wrong about, though. Going on their travels, singing, dancing, and bonding with family really was fun (if you excluded nearly getting squashed by doll-like maniacs). But the adventure of sorts that he found himself in now had succeeded in topping that.
Branch stretched out the cramping in his hand, taking a break from the way he was holding the paintbrush, and considered that thought yet again, as he had been for many days at a time. Maybe it was silly calling it an adventure. When he thought of one, he pictured defeating traitorous zenmasters, overthrowing Rock Apocalypses, or exposing frauds through the power of diamond-shattering Family Harmonies. Not one of… fatherhood.
But nonetheless, whether it could be categorized as an ‘adventure’ or maybe not, it still was something alright.
News traveled quickly of the pregnancy, and it was the fuss of the town. Poppy - friend, beloved Queen - was going to become a mother! It was enough to light up one’s face like a Christmas Tree at the mere mention of it.
He could feel the excitement every moment he stepped out into Pop Village, stronger now more than ever since the actual egg had been laid, the buzz of anticipation and happiness with every Troll who passed him by and offered their congrats, or gifts for their new child, or, as it was on most occasions, both!
Branch took it all in stride, proud and eager, arranging everything he’d graciously received into the newest addition to his bunker, specially made for the newest addition in their lives. Toys, blankets, bottles, and diapers galore were all set into the nursery, the pièce de résistance itself the lovely wooden bassinet that he had so carefully crafted by hand himself, and was in the process of painting.
Branch smiled. He was excited. He was excited to see her excited, and everybody else!
However, there was still something that he couldn’t ignore. Something he couldn’t so easily shake off.
And those were the nerves.
Entering parenthood was like entering one of the musical tribes for the first time. Unknown territory, foreign lands he hadn’t traveled and didn’t know what to expect from it. Sure, his nursery exemplified the love, care, and dedication he was putting forth for the baby and Poppy… but was it enough?
The chipper melody of his beloved suddenly drew him from the musings, making him smile.
“Oh!” Poppy gasped as she entered the space, clasping her hands and looking all over at the domestic little room. “It looks great!”
Branch set the brush down and greeted her with a quick hug and swift peck on the cheek. "Thanks." He said it in a manner that he believed was casual and nonchalant. Poppy, however, seemed to pick up on the undertone of tension that was hidden beneath his words. Her brow creased into an expression of concern.
"What's the matter?" she asked, taking his hands into hers.
Branch glanced at her, stunned for a second for her having figured him out so quickly like that. But then again, this was Poppy, and she knew how he worked - mentally, physically, and emotionally. She knew what tones in his voice were indicative of distress, knew that the caress of her hand over the back of his would begin to quell any anxieties within seconds after she touched it, knew that he could openly speak to her about whatever storms of doubt were clouding his mind…
Branch shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know, I just…” He paused to take a deep breath, and then continued. “I guess I almost feel like I’m not cut out for this…”
Poppy blinked in surprise at him. “What? No… no, how can you say that about yourself?” She shook her head, trying to comprehend what would make him conclude such a thing. Branch, even before the baby was born, was already proving to be a wonderful father!
“I’ll tell you how,” he said firmly, "Just look at the way I was raised! My brothers weren't there, and neither was Grandma... I had to do it myself. And you remember the whole 'Bergens are coming' thing, right?" He ducked his head in shame, himself not wanting to recall his boisterous, reluctant behavior in his gray days. That had been some dark time for him, a time that he was ashamed to even claim as his own. He had learned some valuable lessons about survival, in retrospect, but at what cost? At the cost of pushing everybody away? Secluding himself? Purposefully estranged from the girl he loved?
"I just don't want to be a letdown for our baby," he admitted in a hushed voice. "I don't want to be a failure. We've already been through so much, and I... I would just hate to make it any worse..." He shuddered to think what might happen if he was unable to provide properly, unable to continue showing the affection the baby so rightly deserved.
Poppy's eyes softened, her demeanor shifting slightly. "Oh Branch..." Her coo was as gentle as her touch upon his arm. "Listen to me: You will never be a letdown to me. Nobody can blame you for how you were back then, or for what happened. If anything, our experiences together helped shape us. And I wouldn't change any of it."
Branch raised an eyebrow at her. "Not even the whole smashing-cards-in-front-of-you thing?"
Poppy laughed. "No, not even that. Besides... you kept all those cards, remember?"
The blue Troll blushed, the time he had revealed his collected stash having been a memorable one.
“And you don’t have to worry about junior, here,” Poppy added, reaching into her pink hair and pulling out the delicate little egg, a beautiful pastel blue with pink swirls. She caressed it for a second, and then lifted it up, pretending to ask it a question. “Baby, do you love your Daddy?” She provided the answer, using a higher-pitched voice to act as the baby. “Yes, yes I do!” She put on her normal voice after that to ask, “Is he the best Daddy in the whole wide world?”, and then put on the higher voice again for when she answered, “Yes, yes he is!”
Branch and Poppy laughed together as she passed the egg onto him. He looked meaningfully at it for a second, touching the shell’s exterior gently and stroking its soft texture.
"I don't know if we'll be the best parents ever," Poppy said, shrugging, "but, as long as we do it together, it doesn't hurt to try... does it?"
Branch gazed at her with shining eyes. "It doesn't hurt at all," he responded simply, “ and Poppy giggled, leaning her head against his, with their egg snug between them.
The Troll felt a warmth spreading through his chest, a newfound confidence blooming within. And, as they stood together in the gentle glow of the nursery lights, the pair couldn't wait to face the next chapter of their lives, hand in hand, side by side, together forever and always.
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sillymercury · 2 months
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Stolen Lullabies
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Summary: When war returns to Pyrthian the inner circle finds themselves on the losing side. In a desperate attempt to turn the tides three brother perform a forgotten spell to call forth a great power through time and space. What happens when that ‘great power’ is a human girl who knows nothing of magic? Will she be of use or has destiny abandoned them?
Word count: 4.5k
Part i (Prythian Version)
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Part i
New York ver.
Este let out a deep breath as she analyzed her outfit for what felt like the millionth time, observing her pieces over and over again. One minute she hated everything and the next she thought she was God’s gift to earth. Being a perfectionist has its downsides, especially when running behind schedule. She could probably add and take away accessories, try on different shoes, or switch out the jacket over and over again for hours.
The leather mini skirt she had on was her favorite of the night and the studded belt and silver chain that hung off her hips were the perfect add-ons. The top was a beige mesh corset that made Este’s modest chest more boisterous, she also had a long leather jacket that cleared her skirt and landed at her mid-thigh. With her neck and wrists layered in silver jewelry, she threw on some suede calf boots that matched her corset. Her hair was falling to her mid back in tight black curls. With her outfit out of the way she began to play around with her hair: up, down, half up-half down.
The sound of the phone ringing pulled her attention away from her reflection and had her diving into her bed to grab the cell phone that lay atop. It was her manager, no doubt asking where she was. She swiped across her screen to answer the FaceTime call.
“There’s my favorite pop star!” Shayla’s voice rang loudly out of the iPhone speakers. Shayla, the aforementioned manager and team leader, had been taking care of Este for the past couple of months since she signed with her Music company. Signing with the company was a dream come true for Este, after 2 of her songs went massively viral on nearly every platform she was offered a 15 million dollar deal that she immediately accepted. The company was most indulgent with artistic freedom, whether her demos were rock, hip-hop, or alternative, they accepted it all with open arms. After spending the last couple of months perfecting her first EP it’s finally dropping tonight at midnight. All of the effort put into her outfit was for the release party, Shayla tried to offer up a stylist but Este declined and ranted about being ‘authentic.’ “Are you ready for me to pick you up?”
Este shook her head, “I’m still figuring out my hair and I need to do my makeup. I’ll be ready soon Shay-Shay La-La”
“Uggghhhh, I swear to god you were born late,” Shayla exaggerated, “but seriously you don’t need makeup, and just leave your hair down it’s literally gorgeous.” Shayla was always dishing out compliments so Este just shook her head with a small laugh and pushed her single blond curl behind her ear before nodding. “I’m coming now to get you.”
“No!” Este responded slightly too quickly, earning a confused face from Shay. “I just mean it’s only a couple blocks… I want to walk.” Este’s stomach had been doing flips all evening and she blamed it on nerves but some primal part of her told her this anxiety was different. Like it was warning her of something that was on its way… something big. She wanted to be alone for as long as she could to ground herself before mingling with artists, executives, influencers, and whoever else may be at her party.
“Oh… everything all right?” Though they hadn't known each other too long, Shay knew that when Este insisted on going for a walk it meant her soul was feeling heavy.
“Yea… Yea! Just nerves you know,” Este did her best to make herself sound perky and excited even though she felt like her stomach was about to fall out of her ass. “I need the walk to bring myself back down to earth and I'm actually about to leave now!”
“I thought you-” Shay narrowed her eyes and brought her phone closer to her face, Este just smiled as she was being observed. “Okay, okay.” Shayla saw right through her but decided to leave it, Este thanked a metaphorical god for this. “I’ll see you there princessa!”
Este kept from breathing out a relieved sigh and responded cheerily, “Perfect see you there!” She went to hang up but a nagging question lingered in the back of her head and stopped her from pressing that big red button. “Actually um,” she paused, not knowing how to ask casually, “Did my mother ever get back to you? Do you know if she’ll be there?”
Shay took a minute before responding, the hard line that her mouth was set in gave Este her answer. “She read the message but she didn't RSVP… I'm sorry Este.” Este just shook her head as Shay went on, “But hey! There is going to be like a million and one people there who are excited for you and proud of all the work you've put into this.” Shay was nodding, trying to get Este to agree with her, “Let’s have fun, yeah?”
“Yes! Lots of fun,” Este’s enthusiasm was too over the top to be natural and they both knew it. “I'll see you there,” was the only other thing she said before quickly hanging up. The sigh Este was holding in finally shoved out of her mouth as she shoved herself off the bed and out the door, into the street. The wretched smells of the city attacked Este the moment she stepped outside earning a scowl.
New York was the perfect place for an upcoming artist but having been raised in the country side- Este had a natural distaste for the city. The sounds kept her up at night, the smells nauseated her, and the trash was…everywhere. While she loved walks through the city it seemed she never had an enjoyable one; always getting catcalled or stepping in something she didn’t want to identify. The worse part of it all was every single experience, whether she liked it or not, was locked away in her mind and kept in mint condition.
Though today Este’s mind was too busy to think of all the things she hated, she had that horrible nagging feeling eating away at her gut. Maybe that nagging feeling was her mother’s fault, she pondered.
Este had always been the apple of her mother’s eye, the perfect, gifted genius. Her mother would refer to her as “The mind of a generation” and tell her that she was going to revolutionize science and bring the world into a new era. No one ever attested to that notion, Este had an eidetic memory that much more resembles hyperthymesia and an IQ of 186. She was indeed amongst the greatest minds of her generation.
Everything changed when Este started making music. It became an obsession that consumed every waking moment. She had always loved music, having a taste for every genre, but her intense studies never allowed her indulgence. Her world changed when she met an unimportant boy who taught her how to hold drum sticks. He was totally useless other than the few free lessons she got out of him. After she dumped him where she found him, she began learning multiple instruments and how to produce music in a matter of weeks. It soon became all she did, she even began to neglect her schoolwork. Her mother reprimanded her many times, at the time she was 19 and a 3rd-year doctoral candidate, telling her that she worked too hard for too long to throw everything away for a “silly hobby.”
She tried to tell her mother that the silly hobby was her passion but was shot down every time. She insisted that Este had a duty to her gifts and it was her job to make the world a “better place” somehow. It was then she realized pursuing the scientific field was her mother’s dream for her and not her own. Everything came to a head when Este announced she was dropping out of college to focus on her music. If her mother ever was going to give birth to a cow, it would've been that day. The reaction consisted of screaming, crying, a couple of broken household items, and words that could never be taken back. One explosive fight later and she hasn't talked to her mother in 8 months, not when she got signed, not when she was featured on a top-charting song, and not even on her birthday.
Her mother had made it known how disappointed she was, claiming that she was throwing her life away and she wanted nothing to do with it. She said she would only talk to Este if and when she “came to her senses.” Her father didn't take her side either but he had given up on her when she made it clear she wasn't using her genius to further the American military-industrial complex. Her older brother… well after being compared to Este for the entirety of their life she couldn’t blame him for walking out and rejecting the entire family completely. The only one who stood behind her was her younger sister but May had idolized her ever since she was old enough to understand the term “greatness.”
Este shook her head hoping the thoughts of her familial drama would dissipate. She shoved her hands in her pocket and commended the version of herself from an hour ago that threw a lighter and spliff in there. She put the joint between her lips and as she lit it she scoffed thinking about how her mother would react to her newfound habit. The world would gain another cow.
Her pace slowed to a leisurely walk as she enjoyed the burning sensation from the marijuana and how it numbed her brain and body as well as mask the smells of the city. Her brain felt uncontrollable at times but the effects of the drug slowed down her cognitive function enough to feel normal.
The hotel where the party was being hosted was less than 4 blocks away but Este decided not to take the straight shot. She still had 45 minutes before people would be showing up and figured that was enough time to take a spill around the plaza so she did exactly that. As she walked around she focused on the bustling crowd, the wind that pushed and pulled the foliage, and the many sounds of the city. The weed now infiltrating her system had mellowed her out enough to actually be able to enjoy her city and not have a cynical response to everything in her path. So the walk did what it was meant to, she felt lighter and less stressed as she sat on the edge of the fountain to finish off her spliff before heading to the hotel.
She opened her phone and was faced with the paper she had made it halfway through, even though she wasn’t studying it anymore she still loved science. When you spend years of your life completely devoted to something it’s hard to leave completely in the past. The paper was published by the DOE detailing their breakthrough in nuclear fusion ignition, this controlled reaction was the future of clean energy on this planet.
She read the details of the intricate lasers, they contained 2.05 MJ of energy and when shot at a nucleus made up of two light nuclei the fusion reaction produced 3.15 MJ of clean energy. She had a particular interest in the experimental design, reading up on the diagnostics, target fabrication, and the computer simulations that were used. As she read the back of her mind was coming up with ways to apply this breakthrough to day-to-day life, the cynical part saying the US military would probably be the first to apply the concept to some unnecessary war machine.
“That one seems to like you,” a gentle voice came from her left. Reluctantly dragging her attention from her phone, she lifted her head to see an older, stout man. He was probably in his late sixties and based on the bag of nuts he was throwing around for squirrels she assumed he was enjoying his retirement. He had a crooked finger pointed at Este’s feet and when she looked down she noticed a single squirrel circling her her. There was a plethora of squirrels around the old man but this particular one did seem to like her.
“Hmm, looks like he does,” Este chuckled in response. She stood up and took a few steps and the squirrel seemed to follow her, she was laughing now. The influence she was under had her laughing a little harder than she should but she didn't care, the squirrel was adorable.
“Here,” was all the old man said as he handed her a small handful of nuts, Este took the nuts in her hand and thanked the old man before sprinkling some on the ground. The squirrel ran around greedily gobbling up every single nut. She placed a small pile on the lip of the fountain where she was just sitting and her new little friend jumped right up and went to town.
“Oh my gosh,” Este gushed as the joint hung lazily off her lips and she pulled out her phone for a photo. She giggled as she snapped away, getting plenty of angles to show off to whoever would pretend to care at the party later. With the phone mere inches from her face she noticed through the screen some abnormal movement in the fountain behind the squirrel. “Woah,” she let out as she dropped her hands and focused fully on the fountain, cursing the laziness that kept her from putting in her contacts as she had to squint. “Does it usually do that?”
“Well, most squirrels only come up to people they know have food but-” the old man was in the middle of answering before Este shook her head wildly. She stepped closer to the fountain and the sight became more clear.
“No, not the squirrel. The fountain,” Este grabbed the joint and used that same hand to point at the water that was moving rapidly now.
“Oh- Huh?” The old man glanced over his shoulder at the water before shaking his head, “Do what?”
Este looked at the man incredulously, the water was glowing now. It looked like someone had melted gold, added about 50 pounds of glitter, and was now mixing it about the fountain. “That!” Este exclaimed, pointing again, “Swirl and glow.” She moved closer still until she was leaning over the lip looking at the wild water.
The man stood up this time before turning to look again, “What are you getting at!” The old man threw his arms in the air as he exclaimed but Este was barely even listening. A harsh wind was coming from the water and blowing her hair about wildly, the wind seemed to wrap around her and pull her in closer. The water was humming, a melody that felt familiar but she knew she has never heard. It was inviting, and comforting, the sensation felt perfectly safe as she reached a hand out to touch the top of the liquid gold. She could vaguely hear the old man raving about smoking too many funny cigarettes when all of it was drowned out the moment her finger came in contact with the water.
The sounds of the city turned to warbling as she was yanked into the fountain, but she never hit the bottom, she just kept falling. The warbling turned to whooshing as she fell faster and faster. The water felt thick and warm as it encompassed every inch of her being, All of the exposed skin had the sensation of pins and needles, she tried to reach her hands out to grab something, anything but the dense substance made any voluntary movement nearly impossible. She couldn't do anything except let herself fall, so that's what she did.
The end was closing in as she seemed to slow and the warbling sound came back, Este was fully expecting to fall next to the fountain but when she fell on her ass it wasn’t onto concrete.
Este groaned after she hit the ground, it wasn't a hard impact but enough to hurt. She rolled to her knees and as she was pushing herself up she noticed the cold wet floor. It was covered in jagged rocks and puddles. She pushed herself up and looked around. It was hard to see, but she made out that she was… in a cave? There was cold wind blowing off the rocks, water dripping from the ceiling, and a damp earthy smell all around.
Este felt her heart rate rise as she looked around, it was incredibly dark and stuffy. The smell caught her off guard and the breeze had her clutching her body. The light from the swirling water she just appeared from was above her head on the ceiling of the cave and the glow was fading. The only thought in Estes' brain was confusion. She looked down at the joint that was somehow still lit in her hand and noticed she was completely dry. The fountain and the old man were nowhere to be seen.
Okay, she thought, hallucinations?
She looked at the joint again before aggressively throwing it down and stomping it out. “Jesus Christ,”she muttered as she stomped. When she turned around she realized she wasn't alone, her body reacted instinctively and she jumped back, letting out a yelp at the sight. There were three men in front of her, three very large men. Este herself was tall, standing at 5’8, she was still a good foot shorter than the shortest one. With the glow gone, she could barely make out rippling muscles and… wings?
Her eyes bulged before squinting, the only light now was barely glowing red and blue LEDs that were strapped to two of the men’s chests. She couldn't make out anything other than the outline of their body, not their facial features or whatever those huge things on their back were.
“It’s a girl,” echoed off the wall. It was a deep and rough voice, an intimidating voice that held a hint of confusion. Este instinctively took a step back. “A tiny girl.” The voice now had a slightly mocking tone and Este’s blood ran cold. Her head filled with terrible and violent visions of what three strange men might do with “a tiny girl” like her.
Stumbling backward her back hit the wall of the cave and she felt trapped, the part of her brain that hadn’t switched to fight or flight was grappling for an explanation. The majority of her brain was trying to come up with a next move, if she ran their long legs would catch up to her in a near instant, but if she stayed…
She clocked the silhouettes once again and decided fighting was off the table. She tried to control the shaking that had taken over her body as she pushed her brain to come up with something, anything. She contemplated screaming, throwing rocks, and biting sensitive body parts when the middle one spoke.
“Don’t worry,” this voice was smooth and silky, it sounded comforting but Este’s logical brain wouldn’t fall for it. She could vaguely make out hands that were held up in front of him as he took a step forward. “We brought you here… to help us.”
Este didn’t bother to try and understand what the man was saying, her a-million-miles-an-hour thoughts were halted. Something else had caught her attention. A black mass had begun moving behind the men. It looked like it was seeping out of the cave walls, twisting and swirling in an unnatural way. Her eyes would have caught it if its darkness wasn’t so potent.
The mass was darker than dark, so black that it stood out against the rest of the inky environment. Este’s shaking became more violent as she watched the mass, it seemed to grow and was now surrounding the men and pooling unnoticed at their feet. Whatever comfort was in the second man’s voice was stolen by the eeriness of the creature.
“We won’t hurt you,” he stepped forward again and Este didn’t care, her focus stayed behind him. She saw something in the mass, she squinted harder trying to understand what she was seeing. It looked like the mass was producing sharp blades, tens of them layered on top of each other. No. Not blades. Teeth.
She meant to speak, to ask about the ominous mass but her voice betrayed her. She was only able to point, to gesture to the thing moving around them. She made out three heads turning over their shoulders and took the opening.
Este ran. She didn’t know if she was running deeper into the cave or towards an exit but she didn’t care. She just cared to put distance between her and that thing, getting away from those men was a plus. Behind her, she heard a low “Shit,” that matched the first voice. There was also the unmistakable sound of swords unsheathing.
“What the hell? What the hell? What in the hell!?” was what she screamed in her head as she was taking off. She had weird dreams but swords and monsters? She hadn’t conjured anything like that since her juvenile years.
Ester cursed the heels on her feet, not only were they slowing her down but they were loud. That thing or those guys could easily just follow the sound of her steps. She didn’t let up though, she pushed herself as hard as she could, thanking Shay for buying her that gym membership.
She glanced over her shoulder to see how much distance she had gained but upon glancing she saw the man with the blue LEDs was a few paces away from grabbing her.
The shock of seeing him so close made Este stumble and trip over her own frantic feet. A second yelp fell from her lips but she never hit the ground. Strong arms wrapped around her torso and she was pressed into a steely warm body.
A terrible scream tore through her throat, and flailing began “Help! Help m-“
Este was cut off when a large hand firmly covered half of her face. The action was so rough it restricted her airflow from her nose and mouth. Knowing it was futile she still tried to break free anyway. Nails digging into the foreign skin and legs kicking about wildly. She tried to drop her weight and fall out of his arms but he held firm.
She felt a warm breath on her ear that covered her neck and shoulders in goosebumps as it carried a harsh shh. “Screaming like that is going to get us killed.” This voice was a new one, rich and heavy. It was the kind of voice that conveyed an intuitive pensivity. The kind of voice that would stop people in their tracks and drag their attention to whatever was being said.
The coolness of the cave was lost on Este as her body raised many a degree. Her rational brain told her it was the lack of oxygen and the energy she was exerting in her struggle.
She had two options: give in or pass out. She was sure the man knew this too. Deciding not to be unconscious in the company of a strange man she started smacking his arm ferociously. The man uncovered Este’s nose but not her mouth. She jerked her head about trying to get him to uncover her mouth too but he responded simply, “Sorry, I can’t take that chance.”
Este took greedy breaths through her nose and the mildew smell was long gone. It had been replaced with a plentiful teakwood scent, a sweet honey-like undertone, and an uncured resemblance to a freshwater stream. The relaxation was involuntary, her tense muscles relaxed and this time she was dead weight against the chest instead of trying to fall away from it. The man let out a low hum that reverberated through her body and eased her soul. She closed her eyes and took a few more deep breaths before pensively grabbing the hand on her mouth. The man must’ve clocked the change in Este’s demeanor because he let his hand fall away.
She turned and was faced with a chest, craning her neck she couldn't make out any details of his face. He was encompassed in darkness with only the faint flickering blue light to illuminate the bottom of his face. She could see strong cheekbones, full lips, and a sharp jaw but the rest was just shadows.
“Where am I?” Her voice came out as a faint whisper. His body heat was rolling onto her in waves and she had to physically hold herself back from sinking back into the stranger’s warmth.
“We’re-“ he started but then his lips fell into a thin line as he assessed her, “It’s a long story.”
A man of few words. Normally Este would appreciate that but now she was in a strange dark cave with a strange dark man and any story is better than the one she was concocting in her head. She thought up a schizophrenic break, a weird new drug that was slipped to her without noticing, or maybe a bizarre and realistic dream.
“I’m sure I can keep up,” Este spoke firmly. No nice smell or body heat was going to keep her from rationality. She wouldn’t go with him, at least not willing, without an explanation that made sense.
“We need to get out of here,” he pushed past her, clasping a large hand around her wrist, essentially dragging her behind him.
“What? No! I’m not going anywhere with you.” Estes' volume had increased so showed her sincerity. She tried to rip her hand away but alas his grip was strong. Although she was sure wherever she was being led was better than here her stubbornness wouldn’t let up. She dug her heels into the ground in an attempt to keep from being dragged any further.
He turned around and she didn’t need to see his face to know he was annoyed, it was dripping in his voice. “Either you can come with me or I can throw you over my shoulder and you can come with me. How do you want to do this?” His grip on her wrist tightened and he yanked her arm pulling her close to him again.
She pushed back against his chest and he let her step back, ‘how courteous’ she thought sarcastically. “I’m not going anywhere with you! I don’t know you, or where the hell this is, or what the hell is going on. And if you’re not going to tell me tha-“
He cut her off with his hand again, grabbing her and turning her back to his chest again as he assessed the cave. “Shh! Don’t make a sound. Don’t even breathe.” His voice was so low she wasn’t even sure it could be considered a whisper. It was quieter than the dripping sound coming from somewhere deeper in the cave and she’s sure she wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t so close. His demeanor had shifted and that scared Este, not necessarily of him but of whatever caused the shift.
She tried to assess their surroundings as well but her eyes couldn’t make much of anything out. The man took a step forward, the action forced Este to step too, and when she did her heel clacked against the floor. They both froze at the sound and Este looked down at her boots, cursing them. Este wasn’t sure why but she knew she just fucked up. It was confirmed by the stranger's sharp breath and newly rigid body.
When Este looked up she saw the mass, the creature from before. Or maybe it was a second one. The teeth, the swirling darkness, it was all much closer than the previous one. This time without a wall of men in between, this time she was the wall. A primordial fear seeped into her bones she couldn’t help the shaking. She had premonitions of what that thing would do to her, and she was sure the stranger would throw her into it for a chance to save himself.
His grip loosened and she took that as confirmation of her fear, a soft sob stole from her lips as she felt the hot tears of fear prickling her eyes. That thing must be attracted to sound because the sob was enough for the mass to start rushing forward. It was swirling in on itself as the dark mist cleared the the short stretch between them.
The man did indeed shove her but not into the mass. He shoved her out of the way into the cave wall. He must’ve underestimated his own strength because she hit the wall- hard. Her head made contact first and the last thing she heard was a sword unsheathing as unconsciousness engulfed her.
A/N: Here we gooo, part i(New York version) from Este’s perspective. I’m excited to write this multi part fic and if one person enjoys it I’m happy😭
If you got this far I love you and if you want to check out part i(Prythian version) you can find it here
Also to all my NYC homies I’m so sorry, i really do love your city but it’s important for Ms. Este to dislike it, pls forgive meeee
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happilychaengs · 1 year
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Twice reaction to S/O surprising them at their comeback
Requested by sanayeon1234 on Wattpad
i'm going to be honest. i still struggle writing 9 different reactions with the same prompt so i apologize if some sound similar
-r
nayeon
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nayeon was absolutely exhausted. the comeback that rolled around took a lot out of her as she laid down on the couch off set. but she couldn't have been more shocked as she felt a pair of hands cover her eyes. she was about to scream and shout until she heard a very familiar voice. one that reminded her of home.
"guess who?"
she didn't even need to guess as she let out a squeal of excitement. quickly getting up, she hugged you tightly and breathed in your lavender scent, letting it all set in for her. you were here.
"i missed you so much."
jeongyeon
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she was the mom of the group. she'd always had that label and she was proud of it but sometimes she needed someone to take care of her. it sucked to have these thoughts. it really did. but sometimes she just couldn't control it and started thinking about the what ifs and what could be if she just stopped trying. 7 years was a long time. longer than most. she just thought about if she just cooped up in her home with you and do nothing all day. she doubted that there'd much of a difference.
luckily, you were always there to pick her up and this time was no different. you had surprised the girls out of the blue with a huge platter of food and then decided to stay in the corner of the room with your girl until she got called out to go perform. god knows how much she needed that.
momo
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momo had a lot going on in her head as she sat there on the couch. for this comeback, she was the center again for most of the song just like more and more and it was nerve-wracking. it's always been but she's just gotten better at hiding it. despite her position as the main dancer, she still had her worries. would she forget a step in the choreography? would she mess up? would she embarrass herself and the rest of the girls?
thankfully, her mind was taken off her worries as she heard a rhythmic knock on the door and low and behold, it was you. the only person she could open up to. the only person who understood her in a way no one else could. then you said the exact things she needed to hear as soon as you sat beside her.
"you'll do amazing."
sana
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sana was always an extremely fun person to be around but no one was having it today. she had always fed off of everyone's good energy and well... no one was having good energy today. the rest of the girls were all lazing around on the couch or on the floor as they waited to be called out again to perform another time for their stage.
so all she did was sit there on a chair, hands on her knees as she looked around not knowing what to do for the rest of her time here until she saw the door in front of her open slightly. your head popped out into view and she immediately ran her way to you. you were taken aback by how fast she wrapped her arms around you, almost ignoring the food and drinks in your hand but at least you knew she was happy to see you.
jihyo
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jihyo had a lot of responsibilities as a leader. a bit too much honestly but she'd never tell anyone except you. you were her rock. with you by her side, she felt like she could accomplish anything but the opposite was also true. you were so heavily "sick" that you couldn't make it to her promotions and she was extremely tired from it all.
finally wrapping it up, she made her way into the van where she sat there mindlessly just staring at her phone awaiting a text from you. it was tradition. she'd always tell you when she'd be done and you'd always be there to lift her spirits up whether it was just a simple compliment on a text or a short phone call. her eyebrows furrowed as there was nothing for several minutes. not a single thing happened until she heard someone speak up from the driver's seat, "you did great ji."
"what?" no one called her that except you. yet the person in the seat in front of her sounded a lot like you.
you peeked around the seat to face her as you gave her a quick smile, her being as surprised as you were when she practically pulled your head towards her chest. a clear sign that she had missed you a ton.
mina
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she was so tired. something she likes to call her "social meter" has been almost empty since the hour she left you to do promotions for their new song. and the worst of it all, she was in such a rush this morning she forgot to bring her phone or some games to keep her mind off things. she just wanted to curl up at home with you by her side as you two played together or went straight to bed.
as she made her way into the lounge, she just sat there staring at the wall mindlessly. she didn't want to talk to anyone right now nor could she use her phone. taking her out of her trance-like state, she felt someone tap her shoulder.
"mina." your voice rang in her ears as her head whipped around in surprise, spotting you with her phone and her nintendo switch in your hands and a smile on your face, "i know you have a lot more to do today, so i know you needed these!"
oh, how thankful she was that she had you with her on these types of days.
dahyun
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dahyun loved comebacks. she loved her fans even more but despite that, it doesn't take away from the fact that it's exhausting. mentally and physically. she let out a lengthy sigh as she laid down, arm over her eyes to block out the light.
she heard the girls snickering over something but she decided to just tune it out as she tried to get some more rest. though it wouldn't last long as she heard jihyo tell her to look over to her. reluctantly she got up as she finally saw you with her favorite brand of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers.
she was honestly astonished as she slowly walked over to you. "what's the occasion?"
"nothing. i just wanted to show you how much i love you."
chaeyoung
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while all the other girls were conversating between each other, chaeyoung had a little sketchbook placed down on her lap sketching the only thing that came to mind at the time. you. but she couldn't help but get frustrated when she looked at the drawing she had just done. it wasn't close to the real thing. not at all.
"oh that's cute!"
her head turned around in surprise as she saw you looking down at her sketchbook. "y/n?" she quickly covered your face on her sketchbook as you laughed, "is that me? it looks pretty spot on."
she shook her head as she threw her arms around you, "not as pretty as the real thing."
tzuyu
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tzuyu was missing you. like almost too much. before their comeback started, she practically spent her days with her hip glued to yours. you two did everything together and now that you two were apart for so long, she was extremely sad. you kept in touch with her through phone calls and texting every day, but it never compared to the real thing. she loved talking to you in person. just to be in your presence was enough for her.
so when she felt someone snake their arms around her stomach, she wasn't truly surprised. she immediately recognized who it was. she clasped her hands around yours as she turned around to engulf you in a big hug.
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Text
I Promised
Summary: He always keeps his promises.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1,154
Warnings: Implied sex; Description of drowning
Reviewed and approved by @princessmisery666. Any mistakes are my own.
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The transport bus rocks on the precipice, a blown tire having sent it careening out of control.
A melee of shouted orders, panicked threats, and rattling chains plays out in front of her as the guards scramble to remove prisoners in an orderly manner without being overtaken or dislodging the oversized teeter-totter from its perch. The lock pick she'd been using on her cuffs was jolted from her fingers when the bus slammed into the guardrail.
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As the cacophony fades, she frantically searches the floor, head jerking up at the jangling of keys. It's only her and Officer Tate now. Seated in the cage at the back, she's the last to be freed. As Tate releases the cuffs from around the bar, the bus lurches and the rear tires lift from the graveled roadside. Tate's wide eyes meet hers.
Instinctively, she reaches for him, but he loses his footing, sliding out of reach, head hitting the metal frame as he falls through the cage door. To avoid meeting the same fate when the tail end reaches the tipping point, she loops her arms around the bar from which she’d been freed, locking her fingers together as the bus topples down the cliffside.
When the world stops spinning, the ass end sways, surrounded by a cloudless sky beyond the windows before listing and finally banging to a halt halfway on its side. Severely battered but alive, curled into a ball, she takes a moment to try and assess the bodily damage. The back of her head throbs, and a slick warmth flows down her neck. Moving to sit up, she inhales sharply as excruciating pain shoots through the bruised muscles of her arms, and a wave of dizziness threatens to knock her out. Finger joints still locked tightly together, she rests her forehead against the cold metal, taking several deep breaths to relax her abused body enough to separate herself from the steel frame.
Shifting until she's on all fours, she peeks around the bench seat and through the cage door. Tate's back is unnaturally bent around a seat several rows down, blank eyes staring through her. The bus pitches but quickly settles. A groan of metal and hissing draw her attention to the front of the transport. Water is streaming through the broken seals around the windows and hinged door. Peering out a side window, it appears the bus landed on a shoal that is quickly deteriorating against the intrusion.
Survival instincts kick in, and she searches the space around her for an avenue of escape. The driver's portion of the vehicle is already flooded, sinking further into the silt shifting beneath the added weight. The windows are blocked by bars, leaving only the rear emergency exit.
Doubting that the controls on the vehicle's dash will work even if she can get to them in time, she looks back to Tate, hoping his keys are still in hand or at least accessible. With a resigned huff, she carefully climbs down to him, searching his body and the surrounding area to no avail.
A series of loud pops and a whoosh have her looking over her shoulder to see that the windshield has given way and the murky water is now swiftly rising. Scrambling toward the rear, the bus tilts and slides, and she quickly grasps a bench leg as her body dangles above the aisle—pained muscles and joints barely able to support her weight. 
Scurrying to find a foothold, her feet eventually land on the back of a seat, and she cautiously pulls herself over the rows of benches, returning to the rear cage. Back braced against the steel bars, she repeatedly slams her feet against the window after failing to release the door manually. It's no use. The metal is twisted. The door jammed. She doesn't have enough strength or leverage to break the seal.
A thought flits through her mind that he could break it. One shove, propelled by the powerful muscles of his thighs, would have popped the glass right out of its frame. Chilly water swirls against her fingertips that grip the seat's edge, and her lip trembles around a ragged breath.
She'd always known their end would be unpleasant. They both did. They'd spoken of it after rough hunts, in hushed voices in the dark. Flushed, sweat-slicked skin colliding, his hand tight on her wrist, fingers pressed against her vein, her face buried in his neck, lips sealed against his pulse. Affirmation for each that the other was alive.
He'd always promised that if they were separated, he would find her, be by her side when it happened, and she’d promised the same.
Fate evidently has other plans.
Kicking out one last time, she relaxes her body when neither glass nor metal moves. The water has reached her chin. Tilting her face upward, she breathes in her final breath. Eyes closing, she conjures the image of a freckle-dusted face with peridot eyes and ruby lips. Grip loosening, she imagines running her fingers through his soft hair.
The pressure of holding her breath becomes painful, and she gasps, quickly sealing her lips together while choking on the intrusion of water. The brightness of his smile dims. The crinkles around his eyes blur. Another gasp and the remaining air is expelled from her lungs, body convulsing as bitter, black liquid takes its place.
Something solid brushes against her hand, but her limbs are too sore to flinch away, lungs too brittle and aching to cry out, eyelids too heavy to open to see what it might be as the silent darkness engulfs her.
Rib cage compressed by a heavy weight, searing pain rips through her chest as rancid water and bile force their way up and out of her throat. Fingers claw into the dirt beneath her as she twists to the side, vomiting and sputtering—wheezing as her lungs grapple for needed air.
"Oh, thank fuck!"
Peeling an eyelid open, dark spots cloud her vision, but he's in her peripheral, hair plastered against his head, clothes clinging to him like a second skin, sun haloed around him. Warmth radiates against her flesh as a hand cradles her neck, and cool fingers encircle her wrist, tips pressing into her pulse. A whimper bubbles at his touch. The confirmation that she's alive, that he saved her, steals a breath she can’t afford to lose. Throat raw, she croaks, "Y're h-here."
Something between a grunt and a sob passes his lips, and she blinks her eyes open to see him fully. Tears mingle with the water dripping down his face as he gently squeezes her head.
Fingertips slide over his knuckles, missing her mark as she reaches for him. The next instant, she's being tugged against his solid form, strong arms crushing her against his chest.
"I promised," he huffs, plopping down on his ass, pulling her into his lap, and gently rocking them.
Read the companion piece ~ I Promised, Too
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Love Me Some Pie tag list
@123passwort // @akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 // @deaneverafter // @deans-baby-momma // @deans-spinster-witch // @deanwanddamons // @globetrotter28 // @iamsapphine // @idreamofplaid // @impala-dreamer // @iprobablyshipit91 // @irgendwas122 // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @justagirlinafandomworld // @justrealizedimmascifygurl // @ladysparkles78 // @lyarr24 // @michellethetvaddict // @mimaria420 // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @musicissmylife // @mvdeanw // @princessmisery666 // @raisinggray // @shawnie74 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix // @yvonneeeeeeee
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blacksupremacy86 · 3 months
Text
The Hypno Bachelor
Welcome to the bachelor! This is new dating show for a Hypnotist not traditionally what is demanded for but he is for this guys who are competing to be his Hypnotic subject for a year long battle.
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I walk in to a spare room to find this hottie Luke Macfarlane laying on the bed with thus sexy smile on his face as I enter taking him in l while shutting the door behind me and flicking a switch. Suddenly! The ceiling wall slides open allowing a silver disco ball that is blowing up in a multitudes of color is hot burning up in to the area shooting laser left right and center. Two aim straight for both of his eyes hitting him dead on as he goes totally slack and his body falling in to a lack of function as he stares at me mindlessly ready to be reprogrammed for more then just fun.
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“Oh! There you are Lawrence! I love nerdy types please don’t keep me waiting like this anymore and can we just get to the action please you are driving me craziness with all of this nerdiness.” He says to me when I am approaching him but ignore him instead as I bend over and pick up a remote control on the night table then point it at him as I click it and he freezes. “Sorry Henry boi! I do not need any of your lip at this momentous level of occasion because I am your new Master now, but simply to state I am about to truly rock your world and I crawl over the bed till I am on top of him and undoing his clothes also his lips with my lips.
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“I am too tough for this Hypno shit.”
“You think so? Why are your buttons undone”
“Fuck! How did…”
“Sleep! “
“You ba-st-at-d”
“Mwahahahahaha “
“Release the strings”
“I transformed you earlier “
“You are a puppet”
“Push your shirt to the side “
“Feel yourself up”
“Take a dive “
“Don’t be afraid “
“Real good”
“Get in to the crevice “
“Why don’t shift your jeans “
“Feel your lower level “
“Your horny “
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“Oh Lawrence!”
“Get off the couch
“Did you like the lollipop ?”
“It’s addictive “
“It’s my original flavor “
“How did you make it ?”
“Laced it with blood and pee?”
“What the fuck?”
“It’s mine”
“Why on earth?”
“You drank that up “
“Obsessed over it”
“Oh my God”
“My new favorite flavor “
“I know “
“Suck another “
“You are fucked up”
“Nah! I am going to the dark side”
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“ Oh Master Lawrence! I’v been wearing this in hope you show off, my best shorts are so hot me. Don’t you think so! I do think you are cute in everything, please don’t be shy or bashful because no one can or would ever doubt you.” Andrew is all a glow smirks so brightly as he blows me a string of very powerful kisses, a warm embrace hugging me tightly in every way and I can feel my hand on every crevice. He digs his hands ma under my shirt lifting it over my head as he presses his lips on to my skin raging hot under my skin and he revels in the lust and the unburdening of his soul as he fell in to deep submission.
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“I spotted you the moment you rocked up in to the villa Jamie since you have for some odd reason caught my attention off the foreseeable future and I want to ravish you right now. Stand up to attention look right ahead at the wall, remove your shirt, pants, and underwear let it drop to the floor and sit on the bed awaiting me for the longterm.” I tell Jamie he is a good lay while walking closer to his knees pat them and he wraps his arms on me and mine on his waist he smells my scent and it drives him wild so much he could jolt up the walls.
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Golden boi! “
“Yes Sir!”
“Rise up “
“SNAP”
“POP”
“Mwahahahahaha “
“Strip”
“Leave your pants”
“Shake your booty”
“Do a dance?”
“Who is your God?”
“You are sir”
“Kneel”
“Crawl over here”
“Kiss my boots”
“What are you ?”
“A pussy “
“Who are you?”
“Your golden boy”
“GOOD BOY “
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“YOU!”
“The show “
“Are you ready?”
“Lights”
“Camera “
“Action”
“Woooohhhh”
“Oooohhhh yyyeeeaaahhh!”
“Check this pussy out”
“Your fast”
“I know what I want “
“‘My fist in your ass”
“Mmmmm”
“That would be heaven”
“I am yours”
“Kneel”
“Suck me off “
“Good boi “
“The most marvelous taste in the world “
“It is fabulous “
The end
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itsdannysworld · 6 months
Text
Beautiful as Ever
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(istg coming up with titles is harder than writing the fic) Danny Wagner x Reader Oneshot Warnings: Angst?? Cursing, a lil drinking, ends up super fluffy
enjoy-
You’re not one to regret things, but you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of regret when it came to that night. The boys of Greta Van Fleet invited you out for drinks, an invitation you were quite used to. However a few beers later, you and Danny had ended up behind a locked bathroom door, making out and covering each other in hickeys and bite marks. Nothing crazy happened, but your head skills did come into play. You left quickly after, lying through your teeth about needing to help a friend through a nasty breakup. It had been 4 days, and you couldn’t stop checking your phone, praying Danny’s name would pop up. He hadn’t spoken to you since that night, and it was slowly killing you. You had been harboring feelings for him for the last couple months, and were starting to doubt if he felt anything towards you. Maybe you were a drunk mistake to him, or something he truly regretted. The thoughts wouldn’t go away, and as much as you hated to say it, you could barely function. Your phone buzzed and you excitedly picked it up, silently hoping it would be Danny. Nope, Josh.
Joshy: Heyyyyy, wanna go out tonight? Danny’s been acting weird and I’m hoping his fav girl will cheer him up 😉
“What the fuck.” You muttered under your breath. Josh (unknowingly) just confused your brain even more.
Y/n: Uh maybe (and you better keep this between you and me Kiszka 😐🔪) Danny and I kinda had a weird moment the other day and shits been really fuckin with me, I’m sure its nothin but idk
Joshy: Ughhhh just come chill with us, I think he’s just as fucked up as you are dummy
Y/n: Fine, curse you for being so convincing 🙄
You put your phone down, slightly regretting confessing your problems to Josh. You knew he would never judge nor snitch about anything, but you didn’t wanna fuck with the bands dynamic. You headed towards the bathroom, grabbing an outfit from your closet on the way. 45 minutes later, and you looked gorgeous. Maybe you put extra effort in for Danny, or maybe you really just needed to feel pretty. Your phone beeped with another message from Josh, saying that he was almost at your apartment to pick you up. You sprayed one last spritz of perfume and spun around in the mirror.
“There she is! Beautiful as ever!” You plopped down in Josh’s truck, and immediately smiled at his compliment. “Aww, thank you Joshy. You yourself look quite beautiful.” He pulled you in for an awkward hug, reaching over the center console. “Where are we going?” You asked as he started driving out of your apartments parking lot. “Same bar as usual, I just feel like switching it up would be weird.” He paused then continued. “Oh yeah, what happened between you and Daniel? Is everything ok?”
You froze, but quickly regained your composure.
“Uh, we kinda had a drunken makeout/minor sexual situation thingy in the bars bathroom a little while ago. It’s no big deal, but he hasn’t talked to me since. I hate to say it, but I kinda feel used? I mean, you know how much I like him.” Josh nodded. “I see. I doubt his intention was to make you feel used, he’s not that typa guy.” Before you could respond you pulled into the familiar parking lot of the bar y’all frequented. Josh grabbed your hand before you could unbuckle. “Look at me mama, everything’s going to be ok, I promise” You smiled at the gesture and nodded. He always knew how to comfort you, granted he had been your best friend for quite a long time.
You walked into the dingy bar, 80s rock n roll blasting through the speakers. You spotted Sam and Jake at your usual booth, but quickly noticed the lack of Danny. “Is he even going to be here tonight?” You asked Josh. “I think so”
You went to go sit at your booth, letting Josh order your drink. “Hey you twooo”. You sat down next to Sam. “Hey y/n, surprised to see you, you went all ghost on us.” Sam said teasingly. “Oh shush, it was unintentional.” An hour had passed by before Danny made an appearance. You caught his eye as he walked in and offered him a small smile, one in which he returned. He bought his drink and turned towards the table, sitting down next to Josh. You saw Josh lean over to tell him something, and Danny made eye contact with you. You quickly adverted your gaze and decided to talk to Sam about Rosie. After about half an hour, your phone vibrated in your pocket.
Danny: Hey, can we talk outside?
You looked at him and nodded, and y’all both started to leave the booth. “Where are y’all going?” Sam asked. “Smoke break.” You responded in a tone that shut down any further questions from him. You made it out the back door and leaned against the wall, Danny following after. “So why’d you ghost me?” Your boldness shocked you, but you were hurt and needed answers. “Y/n, I didn’t mean to. I just had a lot going on.” He seemed apologetic, but you weren’t having it. “You know how awful it is to be so in love with someone, and the moment they kind of return the feelings they fucking leave? I hate to say that what we did meant a lot to me, but it really fucking did." You could hear the pain laced through your voice. He seemed taken aback by your sudden outburst, but expected it.
"You're in love with me?" He questioned.
"I mean, yeah duh. I don't go around giving head to random guys who I don't actually like." Your eyes started to burn, and your face felt heavy. He was completely unreadable and it drove you insane.
He let a small chuckle, "I love you too y/n, like a lot."
Part of you couldn't believe it. You were excited and scared and pissed and hurt and happy and it was overwhelming. "I never meant to ghost you, I just didn't know how you felt about everything. I'm sorry." You nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face. You pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, and he rocked y'all back and fourth.
"I love you y/n."
"I love you too Danny." You mumbled into his chest. You pulled away. "So can we skip the dating phase and just be in a relationship? I've waited long enough." You both smiled and slightly giggled at your question. "Of course y/n/n, plus I think we’re past that stage." He pulled you in for a sweet kiss, one that you quickly returned. "Now can we get to my house because god knows I don't want our first time to be in that shitty bathroom." You laughed at his statement, agreeing with it. He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards his car, happiness and lust radiating off of him.
"Can you text one of the guys and tell them we're leaving?" You nodded and pulled out your phone, clicking on Josh's name.
Y/n: Danny and I are leaving lol, ig him and I are dating now?? Anyways, have a good night Joshy 💚
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reidscanehand · 1 year
Text
you’re the northern star
Inspired by this song by Dom Fera Pairing: Rockstar!Remus Lupin x fem!Reader (Modern AU) Category: Hurt/Comfort/Fluff TW: implied alcohol/drug use (really just overdoing it on Remus’ part)
Well, this is different, innit? I was rewatching the Taylor Swift Miss Americana documentary and I got an idea about a rockstar not sure of what to do with himself. Also, this is a really fucking stunning song that I’ve loved and wanted to use for a while. The other lyrics Y/N sings are another Dom Fera song called “Midnights in October”. 
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Three rum and cokes and a couple beers in Some lucky drunk stood up, heavy with where he’d been And he held onto someone, and he sung out compelled “You’re why I was right to trust myself”
~~~
Being a rockstar was everything Remus ever dreamed of. The Marauders had kicked off when the boys had all finished school together. Peter had quickly left before they really took off  - unsurprising, really, but no less saddening - quickly replaced, though, by Frank Longbottom, who was, in fact, a better player anyway. With Frank on keyboards, Remus on bass, James on drums, and Sirius on guitar and vocals, the band really began to gel for the first time. Remus and Sirius wrote all the music and lyrics - mostly Remus, really. He could play piano, guitar, and bass, making it easier for him to arrange everything, but Sirius did his fair share. The addition of Frank seemed to symbolize a new beginning for everything, really. 
That and James and Lily finally getting together. If James wasn’t so head over heels for the girl, Remus could’ve sworn he’d asked her out just for her connections. 
With Lily installed as their manager, The Marauders started to play bigger venues, their songs started getting more streams, and, suddenly, they were releasing EPs, then an album released to stunning reviews and an enthusiastic and ever growing fan base. They were invited on Graham Norton, then played a UK tour, then a US tour, performing on Jimmy Fallon, and Saturday Night Live. Then the Grammys came - Album of the Year, Record of the Year, Best New Artist, and Best Rock Album, all in one fell swoop. 
And Remus suddenly realized that that was all he’d ever wanted. All he’d ever wanted...and now that he had it, what was he to do? He didn’t really know. He suddenly felt embarrassed and uncomfortable. He couldn’t write, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t do much of anything. He played with the group, but even Sirius got on him for how bummed out he sounded while singing backing vocals. He didn’t feel like he could talk to his bandmates. He started drinking...aggressively, really. When he couldn’t sleep, he would drink to knock himself out, sometimes popping pills to help in the endeavor. Then he’d take pills to wake up, take pills to energize himself to do a show. He knew it was bad, but he felt just numb. 
It was an unspoken problem with his bandmates. They knew something was wrong, especially Sirius, who was so furious with him after their last writing session - a session to which Remus arrived late and hungover - that he didn’t speak to him for almost a week unless he absolutely had to. This last leg of the US tour couldn’t be over quick enough in Remus’ opinion. Tensions were high and maybe...maybe he just needed a break? He wasn’t sure. Their Reno, Nevada shows had been sold out and with the weekend over, they’d leave the next morning for Los Angeles. Dropping his stuff at the bus and then going to his hotel room to pick up his wallet, he left the hotel without telling anyone, doubting they’d miss him. James and Lily were...canoodling in their room, Frank was facetiming back home with his girlfriend, Alice, and Sirius was seducing whatever groupie he’d brought back that evening. Remus had tried the groupie route, hoping that feeling something would bring him back to earth, but it just made him feel even more numb, really. 
So, he took off. Their hotel was near enough to a bar that he walked over pretty quickly. It was some local place, he didn’t pay the name too much mind, settling at the bar and hoping no one recognized him. It was pretty dark, anyway. There was a little group playing popular music covers on a small stage in one corner, but it wasn’t too busy. Remus asked for a rum and coke, heavy on the rum. The bartender seemed to get the message and Remus quickly chugged back a couple of drinks, asking for a third when the band caught his attention.
“This is a less popular song,” a young woman says while pulling a stool up to the mic, “but it’s one of my favorites. I hope you like it.” The opening chords of the song caught his attention. He watched, transfixed, as the young woman began to sing.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh. There’s a story I tell, really just to myself. Like a prayer I sing to empty shores, so how’s it sound just like yours? How’s it sound just like yours?” she sang wistfully, her pretty voice lilting around the lyrics. 
Remus hoped he wasn’t drunkenly imagining things...because he’d written this song. It was one of the first songs released by The Marauders back before...before anything, really. Before they’d turned to rock, even. It was one of the songs he’d recorded with Sirius when it was just the two of them. He’d recorded all the parts in his closet at university, sitting cross-legged on the floor to fit in there with his various instruments, and mixing the parts on his computer instead of writing a paper for his intro to philosophy course. 
“There’s a spirit over midnights in October and it sings to you and only you. So, how did I hear it too? How did I hear it too?” She continues to play on ukelele as the rest of the band comes in on piano, bass, and drum, but Remus remains focused on the young woman. Her eyes are closed, but she’s smiling to herself as she sings. She looks so...peaceful. He can’t believe it’s his song that’s made her so...so happy, so wistful. The fans loved the music, sure, but Remus hadn’t seen someone love someting he’d created like this before. He sips his drink slowly, methodically. He doesn’t want to get drunk for the first time in ages. He wants to speak to this beautiful girl. He wants to tell her...he doesn’t know, but he needs to be more put together to talk to her. 
“And if we try to say what we need we could be okay. We clearly believe in believing, baby, we’ll try slow, we’ll try slow. There’s a spirit over midnights in October and it sings to you, only you and now I’m singing too. And now I’m singing too. And now I’m singing too.” She finishes the song and there’s a small round of applause, led mostly by Remus. The guitarist steps up to the mic and thanks everyone, announcing the end of the set for the band. The group gets offstage and Remus tries not to seem creepy as the young woman crosses to bar, leaning over it and ordering a Jameson on the rocks. 
“I’ll get it,” he hears himself say. She turns to see him and her eyes widen. 
“Oh my God, you’re...you’re Remus Lupin,” she almost whispers.
“Yeah,” he shrugs unsure of what to say. He’s still not used to the fans. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem the type to freak out. In fact she looks almost embarrassed.
“I promise I had no idea you were here,” she says quietly, “I would never have played that if I’d known-”
“I loved it,” he cuts her off. “You have a beautiful voice.”
“Um,” she looks surprised, “thank you. I really...um, I’m not really a singer or-”
“Could’ve fooled me,” he teases. The bartender hands her her drinks and she seems to remember where they are. 
“What’s your name?” he asks. 
“Y/N,” she answers shyly. She looks down at her drink and opens her mouth, quickly closing it again, unsure of what to say. Remus feels the most sober he’s felt in ages. There’s something about this girl that’s warming him. He can feel his heart beating and it’s the most he’s felt in ages. 
“Well, Y/N,” he smiles, scooting over and sitting next to her. “Tell me more about yourself.”
“I...what?” Y/N looks at him quizzically. “Don’t you have a show or...groupies to...or something?”
“I don’t have anything to do,” he teases, “except talk to the pretty lady that sang one of my oldest and most favorite songs in a random bar in Reno. So how’s about you tell me everything about yourself, hm?”
She looks at him, head tilting slightly, “Can I get you a drink?”
“A water,” he answers quietly. Her eyes glance for the briefest second at the three empty glasses next to him, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She orders him a water and scoots closer. 
“So, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”
~~~
He said Keep me up, keep me out late Keep me close, I need your faith Keep right where you are ‘Cause I followed this far Like I’m sure that you’re the Northern Star I’m sure that you’re the Northern Star
~~~
“I need a ticket for tomorrow’s show, please,” Remus asks suddenly, not quite expecting the silence that follows. He looks up and sees everyone on the bus staring at him. “What?”
“For tomorrow?” Lily questions, clearly trying not to sound surprised.
“Yes, please,” Remus replies. 
“Who the hell do you know in LA?” Sirius asks far more aggressively than Lily.
“She’s not from LA,” Remus answers. “But she couldn’t get a ticket to the Reno shows, so I invited her to the LA one.”
“So there’s a she?” James teases, wiggling his eyebrows. Lily elbows him gently and then pulls her iPad over to her from the box it rests in on the bus. She opens it and clicks a few things. 
“VIP, I’d imagine?” she asks without looking at him.
“If you can, that’d be cool,” Remus tries to sound nonchalant. Lily nods and continues typing. 
“And what’s the name of this she?” Frank heckles, glancing at Sirius and James.
“None of your business,” Remus replies, trying to hide his smile.
“I will actually need her name,” Lily corrects.
“You can’t just put it under my name?” Remus almost whines.
“Not if you want her in the VIP area,” Lily looks at him mock accusingly. “And from the sounds of things, I assume you do.”
“Y/N,” he tells her, sighing exasperatedly. “Y/N Y/L/N.” He looks back down at his notebook, scrawling down a few ideas he’d had in his head since last night. He and Y/N had talked until the bar closed, then sat outside talking about everything and nothing until he’d had to leave for the bus. The couch shifts as Sirius plops down next to him.
“You writing?” he asks, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Maybe,” Remus shrugs, not looking at him. He can feel Sirius staring at him, but sees him nod out of the corner of his eye.
“You hungover?” Sirius asks quietly. 
“No,” Remus clears his throat, finally looking up at his friend. “I’m, um...thinking of taking a break from drinking for a bit, actually.”
“Cool,” Sirius nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Pills, too?” Remus nods and Sirius practically beams, clapping him on the shoulder and nodding. He stands, heading back to his bunk before turning around, now facing everyone, a shit-eating grin on his face, “So, will you be dedicating every song to Y/N, or...”
Remus throws a pillow at him and pretends to be annoyed, but can’t ignore the genuine joy edging its way back into his numbed heart.
~~~
Three hours in to a three minute call Some gambler wondered if she’d just won it all And she laughed when he asked if his head seemed alright Singing, “I’ve seen the bright side my whole lovely life”
~~~
“How’s the writing going?” she asks, taking a sip of water from her Stanley cup that’s just off camera. Remus leans back against his headboard and groans in response. He’s thrilled when she giggles and he looks back at the screen to catch her smile. 
“It can’t be that bad,” Y/N teases.
“It’s not, actually,” Remus replies. “Album’s due to the label in about two months and we’ve finalized all but two songs in terms of lyrics. So that’s two left to record? Not too shabby since it took us so long to write the damn thing.”
“That’s amazing. More songs about...oh, what’s that new one I loved? Um...the one about Aperol?”
“’Spritz’ was more Sirius’ baby than mine, I’ll have you know,” Remus explains, “but I’ll tell him you like it, he’ll rub that in my face for ages.”
“Maybe he’ll hate me less for distracting his bassist,” she quips. 
“No one hates you, darling,” Remus assures her. “If anything they’re just happy I’m smiling again.” It’s getting dark outside his window and he leans over to turn his lamp on. 
“I’m sorry,” Y/N says suddenly. “I shouldn’t be keeping you up. I know the time difference is-”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he cuts her off, sitting up straighter, “I wouldn’t answer if I didn’t want to talk, love.”
“I know, but we were just going to say goodnight and then-”
“We both know,” he tilts his head teasingly, staring at her through the webcam, “that we weren’t going to just say goodnight.” 
Y/N rolls her eyes but smiles, “There are better ways of telling me I talk too much.”
“I’d love it if you could talk to me all day long,” Remus assures her. “And you know that.”
“I’d like that, too,” Y/N whispers, smiling gently at him through the webcam. 
“Really?” Remus asks, sitting up slightly. 
“Yeah, there’s all this stuff that I want to tell you throughout the day...and I’d text you, but then I feel dumb for texting you-”
“You can text me whenever, you know that,” he reminds her. She giggles and his heart soars. 
“I’ll keep that in mind when you finally get annoyed of me sending you pictures of my morning smoothies,” she teases. 
“Smoothie time? Babe, I’d be heartbroken if I missed it!” She laughs and he uses the warm feeling in his chest to talk about what he’s wanted to for a few weeks now. “But...but what if...what if you were able to talk to me all day?”
She freezes, eyes growing wide, “What do you mean?”
“I know that we...I know we haven’t been together all that long,” he begins. “But, I would...I’d really like it if you’d be my girlfriend. And I’d...I’d love it if you’d come here and just be with me. You can still pursue your music here...I know that you’re...”
“I’d do it,” Y/N replies quietly. 
Remus’ heart does that thing that it’s done since the moment he saw her. It feels like it’s expanding in his chest. 
“Really?” 
“How soon do you want me there, lover boy?”
~~~
Three weeks away from a year since the score And the reckless thieves reckoned they could get even more They ain’t casing out weddings, nah those are too big a sight They’re just looking at dresses and rings that she likes
~~~
It’s warm in the Ed Sullivan Theatre, but Stephen Colbert is easily the nicest host Remus has ever had the pleasure to meet. Despite the fact that he agreed to letting them present the new song instead of playing the lead single, Remus is still nervous. 
“Three more weeks, dude,” Sirius whispers to him. 
“Yeah, I know. How’s James holding up? Ready to get married?” Remus jokes, leaning back so James can hear him, whispering even though they’re on a commercial break. 
James isn’t annoyed, though, he grins hugely, “Never been more ready, boys.”
“No, not that, I mean, yeah, but, you and your girl,” Sirius corrects. “One year, right?”
Remus beams himself, “Yeah, just about three weeks. Our anniversary’s, like, two days after the wedding.”
“You, um...you thinking about it?” Sirius hedges, passing side glances with Frank and James. 
“About what?” Remus asks with faux innocence. 
“Come off it,” Frank groans, rolling his eyes. He and Alice got married during their last break, just before the release of this new album, timing it perfectly before the madness kicked back up again. 
“You guys gonna be copying everything from me and Lily’s wedding?” James teases. The boys laugh, but Remus just smiles. He glances around and spots you talking to Lily, probably going over your set list. You’ll be opening for The Marauders in most cities during this next tour. You’re a bit more indie pop than The Marauders, but the boys genuinely wouldn’t have it any other way. And the fans will likely love how you close with one of Sirius’ and Remus’ oldest songs, bringing the boys onstage with a tune of their own. 
Seeing that you’re distracted, he turns back to his band, his oldest friends and whispers conspiratorially, “No...no, but, um...I mean, I’ve had the ring for about six months now.” 
All three men turn and face him, eyes widening, jaws dropping.
“Dude-”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”
“Six months?!?!?”
“Chill,” Remus whisper yells. “I’m gonna ask when we go to Paris after the tour’s over.” 
“That’s so romantic!” Frank whispers, turning away as a cameraman signals for them. James smiles and sends him a thumbs up.
Sirius stares at him for a moment longer and smiles. He mouthes, “Happy for you, dude” as Colbert introduces them.
“Back stateside for their new tour, the British rock band The Marauders is with us tonight. Originally they were going to perform the newest lead single from their new album, which Rolling Stone has called, ‘a near perfect sophomore album’, but their bassist, Mr. Remus Lupin, emailed about a week ago and asked if he could perform a bonus track. This is a bit different, isn’t it, Remus?”
Mr. Colbert looks to the band and a camera zeroes in on Remus, a kind PA holding a mic up to him. 
“Yeah, it’s not...not really a rock song, I guess,” he grins as the audience titters. 
“It’s called ‘Northern Star’,” Colbert says, smiling widely at him.
“Yeah, yeah,” Remus nods. 
“When we started writing, Sirius and I, we had a lot of songs that sounded like this. And it took someone very special,” Remus finds Y/N’s eyes and his smile deepens, “to remind me how wonderful it felt to write like this again.”
“Well, please take it away,” Colbert finishes. 
Remus nods and looks down at the piano, pulling the attached mic closer to his face as silence falls over the audience. He can feel Y/N staring at him, not expecting this at all. 
“Three rum and cokes and a couple beers in Some lucky drunk stood up, heavy with where he'd been And he held onto someone, and he sung out, compelled ‘You're why I was right to trust myself’
He said Keep me up, keep me out late Keep me close, I need your faith Keep right where you are Cause I followed this far Like I'm sure that you're the Northern Star I’m sure that you’re the Northern Star
Three hours into a three-minute call Some gambler wondered if she'd just won it all And she laughed when he asked if his head seemed alright Singing, "I've seen the bright sides my whole lovely life"
She said Talk me up and talk me down Talk too long, I'll stick around Talk me into following you somewhere far Like I'm sure you're the Northern Star I'm sure you're the Northern Star
La la la
Three weeks away from a year since the score And the reckless thieves reckoned they could get even more They ain't casing out weddings, nah those are too big a sight They're just looking at dresses and rings that she likes
They said Keep me up, keep me out late Keep me close, I need your faith Keep right where you are Cause I followed this far Like I'm sure that you're the Northern Star Oh, I'm sure you're the Northern Star I'm sure And I'm sure that you're the Northern Star.”
Remus hits the last chords staring at Y/N, hearing his friends playing his beautiful song all around him, and knowing that he’s happier than he ever thought he could be. Rockstar be damned, this is what he’d always wanted. 
~~~
A/N: This is different, but I hope you liked it! 
Didn’t include my taglist because it’s been so long, plus this is a different fandom! Love you all xx 
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Note
hurt/comfort with female reader with Werewolf! Sanford?
reader has she/they pronouns
Pubby man :3
Werewolf!Sanford x Demigirl!reader
CW: mentions of painful transformation, reader gets hurt by accident
Scrolling down your feed today greeted you with posts and photos of both your ex boyfriend and ex best friend, mutual friends showering them with love and praise about their engagement, completely forgetting about how a year ago you'd caught them cheating together.
She was moved in, and you were evicted, a lifelong friendship down the drain, and a supposedly solid relationship of five years gone, bags packed and dumped outside with you.
Old scars ached again, tears filling your eyes despite how hard you tried to fight them. "She thought I actually loved her!" Ex bf laughed, his girl joining in. "They're so stupid! I mean really [Name], do you think someone like him would care for a nothing like you?"
It was dark, a light drizzle dampening your skin and suitcase, hands shaking from the winter chill and adrenaline pumping in your veins. Who could you even call right now? The two people you'd usually turn to were the ones who'd caused this agony.
A name popped up in your contacts, one you'd run with in the past for a brief period. Sanford, a man with a spotty past, but a heart of gold. It'd been a few years... Would he have the same number? Would he remember you? Would he even care?
You hit dial.
Your walk down memory lane was disrupted as the bed was weighed down, San flopping down next to you with a towel around his hips, and one around his lengthy locs. "Hey princess," He sported a wolfish grin, but it dropped when he saw you crying. "oh sweetie, what's wrong?"
He sat up and pulled you into his arms, even if you'd tried to resist, you doubted you could, his arms muscular from all the fighting and heaving lifting he did in his day-to-day. The smell of wet dog clung to him, part of his lycanthropy, no matter how hard he scrubbed or what scents he used, he'd always smell of wet dog out of the shower.
"It-it's been a year since it happened," He glanced and your phone, still on the photo featuring ex bestie's hand, showing off the stupid rock on her finger. Carefully he took your phone and set it down.
Over the past year, you'd rekindled your friendship with Ford, introducing you to his current company and friends. As different as you were to the team, they'd mostly accepted you with open arms, with the exception of the ever looming darkness named Hank. They still didn't seem to have warmed up to you.
"Why did you bring an outsider in? She looks weak, unable to pull their weight here." Hank grumbled in annoyance.
"Cause they're Ford's friend, you moody creep." Deimos rolled his eyes, patting your shoulder. "A friend of Fordie's is a friend of mine, alright chiquita?"
Doc, the leader of the group, watched you carefully behind his red tinted goggles. "I'll the the risk and accept you on the grounds that Sanford trusts you. But make no mistake, if you cross us, you won't like what will happen."
Once or twice a month, the boys would shower after working, and head out at night which had confused you at first, until you'd come to realise these outings always lined up with full moons. You'd cornered Sanford about it once, and he folded, showing off a massive scar on his back, claws had raked down it and eternally changed his fate.
"Werewolf. Would've have figured there would be werewolves out here, but there's vampires and witches, and other occultist stuff." He shivered as you touched them, long since healed over, but still sensitive and tender to touch. "I accidentally turned Deimos into one, who bit Doc and turned him, and in turn he changed Hank."
Despite the four of them being werewolves, you'd never seen any of them in their wolfy forms, and the curiosity picked at your brain whenever you glanced the scars on San's back, the one on Dei's shoulder, Doc's wrist and Hank's throat.
"C-can you please stay with me tonight?" You sobbed into Sanford's chest, and he let out a long sad dog sigh.
"It's a full moon tonight princess." His golden eyes met yours. "It'd be incredibly dangerous."
"Please?"
He sighed again. "Changing isn't super fun to watch, you get used to the pain after a few turns, but the noises and movements of it can be disturbing. But I am worried about you, so I will stay tonight. But whatever happens, please know I'm not going to be in full control of myself. The animalistic side can be vicious, which is why we go outside."
Darkness fell, Deimos whined about taking Sanford out and Doc seemed unconvinced about leaving you alone with another wolf, but eventually the three left when Hank began groaning and falling onto his hands, a sign of incoming change.
"Hank's always the first to turn." Sanford was laying on his stomach while resting his head on your lap, wearing boxer shorts and nothing else. Why would he get dressed up to tear out of his clothes later?
"I'd say it's because Doc bit him in the throat so the wolf side hits hit brain faster, but it's much more likely they're so eager to hunt and tear that they kinda force it." He was helping distract you, and it was working fairly well.
"Does he grow fur or is he bald like he normally is?" You had to stifle a laugh imagining a hairless werewolf.
"He grows thick black fur, like his eyebrows. But it's kinda funny they get hair once or twice a month only to lose it in the morning." San chuffed before letting out a long groan and exhale. "It's starting to happen, princess."
His golden eyes met yours, his iris growing further into his eye, his pupils narrowing into fine points. "I don't want to scare you, are you really sure you want me here tonight?"
"I couldn't be scared of you Sanford. I... Like you too much to be scared." A loud snap came from his body, his skull began to reform, nose and lips pushing outwards and transforming into a snout.
Sanford snarled the whole time his body shifted, his bones cracking and reshaping to accommodate his wolf form. You tenderly supported his head on your lap as he writhed in pain, he raked his claws over your thigh by accident, leaving bloodied scratches.
A mixture of black and dark grey fur coated his body, his arms, legs, back and face black, while the rest was dark grey with black mixed in. He was beautiful, his pelt incredibly soft under your fingers. San's golden eyes opened, and he looked up to you, a mixture of wildness and familiarity in him.
His cold wet nose twitched, and he looked down at your leg, noticing the scratch he'd made. "Don't... worry about it." You mumbled softly, apprehensive that he'd turn vicious if you spoke too loud. Of course you loved and trusted him, but at the end of a day, he was a gigantic wolf, who could tear you apart.
He licked the wound, and it ached, before going numb, and you watched as the flesh slowly melded together, forming a bumpy scar. Wolf spit had a healing factor of some kind, interesting.
Sanford got up, stretching his full body, joints creaking and popping slightly as they settled into their new positions. He shook his body, sending fluff everywhere, coating you, the bed, the floor, every surface.
"What are you going to do now..?" He looked at you, tilting his head aside. Normally he'd be full of energy, ready to spring, hunt, kill. But right now... He just wanted to lay with his packmate. San settled back on the bed, his chest heaving with each breath.
Admittedly he looked comfortable, and you cautiously laid your head on his side, hearing his heart beating. His fur was silky soft, he was a massive fluffy pillow, perfect to just close your eyes for a second on and-
You woke to the bed being disturbed, opening your aching eyes to see another wolf standing over you, his sea-glass eyes glittering softly. Tufts of black intertwined with his brown and white fur, his tail wagging slowly, careful to not spook you.
He smelled of smoke and earth, his tongue lolling slowly as he panted, tired from his hunt. Deimos, definitely Deimos. He collapsed over you, Sanford letting out a loud huff as the smaller, but still larger than you, wolf made himself comfy.
The next was a wolf of light and dark grey, white around his muzzle to show his age. Doc, judging by the black streaks sticking up like a mohawk along his back, and the scars along his face. He pressed his nose to your cheek before laying behind Sanford, the two back to back.
Last was a jet black wolf with angry red eyes, he leaped onto the bed, his lips peeled back. Interestingly, his missing lower jaw had been changed into one that bit his wolf face, and there was blood oozing from it. A lot of blood.
Hank spat a severed finger onto your chest, a familiar looking engagement ring around it, before they laid down, cheek slightly touching your leg. As grizzly as his gift was, at least Hank had done something nice for you. Kinda.
You tossed the finger aside and let the warm wolf pile lull you back to sleep, dreams of one day running with them flooding your mind. Perhaps... One day.
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queerpumpkinnn · 9 months
Text
Stain (Part Five)
5.3k words
In which Sirius realizes he loves you in a different way than the other Marauders.
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six coming soon!
Summary: You and Sirius have made up, so then why do you still feel like shit?
Pairing: Sirius Black x bestfriend!reader
Warnings: Brief implications of queerphobia, mentions of abuse (Sirius' parents), Sirius picks his nails and they bleed, panic attack, talk of running away, Sirius has hickeys, allusions to sex, let me know if I missed anything!
While reading, I recommend you listen to secret hiding spot kinda love - a Spotify playlist by me!
~
"I'm sorry, what?"
Then followed a theatrical eye roll from James from the nth time. "Sirius?"
The boy in question gave you a look. You sighed. You definitely didn't look down at your shoes as soon as his eyes met yours.
James' latest plot for a prank was outstanding, such was his trademark. And as usual, it required the group to book it in all other directions as soon as possible, avoiding any disciplinary figures aiming to catch you. Naturally, you'd get caught eventually. But in running and hiding you were no doubt going to get stuck hiding with Sirius. It had become an unspoken rule that you two stuck together, because somehow, you two always found the perfect hiding spot. A broom closet or empty classroom you didn't recognize always made itself known to you, no matter where you were in the castle. It had become a running joke in fifth year and had become the norm ever since.
But hiding had brewed history between the two of you as of late. At some point in the beginning of the year it had become an intimate secret, a tiny home for the two of you to sneak out of class to make out in. When you'd attained a boyfriend (that wasn't him), you'd avoided prank playing for as long as you could. You knew Sirius wouldn't try anything. He was still timid around you even weeks after making up.
But still, the thought of going back to the room that had been yours, it made your stomach turn to rocks. It didn't feel right now to go back to an intimate place with the person who had made it so when he was now, for the first time in your friendship, held behind boundaries. You didn't know who'd set them, you didn't even know what they were, but suddenly certain places and inside jokes and terms of endearment felt impossible. So when James had caught you and roped you into his latest scheme, you'd heaved a sigh and popped a squat, an uneasy feeling stirring your guts.
Sirius was still staring at you. By the shape his brows were taking you knew he was understanding of your hesitancy. But you gave a small huff, standing.
"Never mind. I'm in, what's the plan?"
And just like that, you found yourself in the very situation you'd dreaded. Frantic footsteps echoed off of towering stone ceilings, a cackling Peeves swooping around chandeliers, no doubt to stir up the mayhem the Marauders and you had just set off.
"Damn it, hurry!" Sirius grunted, grabbing your hand to tug you along. If you weren't already breathless from the sprint your gasp would have held more meaning. His touch sent sparks up your arm, tingling your chest. It didn't use to do that.
A sharp turn jerked you, almost losing your footing if not for the just as sudden stop in front of a small wooden door you recognized all too well. Here you went.
Sirius swung the door open, slipping himself into the closet that seemed scarily small before tugging you inside. His arm reached over you to yank the door, stopping just before it closed and gently shutting it, breathing soft sigh when the knob clicked.
Meanwhile you were about to lose your mind. His face was inches away, cheek tinted pink from running, tiny sparkles in the dim light scattered across his cheekbone. A stray lock tickled your nose. Pretty grey eyes darting back and forth, fixated on what he could see in the tiny crack in the wood. His scent overwhelmed your senses, something indescribable but so familiar and so Sirius that, against your understanding, made your heart ache.
He wasn't even touching you. Even in his dedication to lookout he'd made careful sure to maintain some semblance of space. In truth he was scared to touch you. Not because he didn't want to, but because it was you. That cold-hot feeling that had overtaken his hand when he dragged you down the hall just minutes earlier still lingered. Your presence was impossible to ignore, he was now hyper-aware of it whereas it used to feel natural. He wasn't used to actively recognizing you. It used to be like not knowing your own scent because you never didn't smell it. That's how inseparable you two had been. But now everything you did captivated him, a strange cross between feeling like a deer in headlights and under a love spell.
An odd quiet had fallen between the two of you. Sirius had turned to face you at some point; you'd been too deep in thought thinking about him to notice, funnily enough.
Centimeters lie between the two of you, a magnetic feeling buzzing on your skin, thickening the air and freezing you in your spot. You couldn't make yourself turn to keep a look out, but neither could you look him in the eye. Straight at his chest seemed to be the only safe place to point your gaze. Memories raced through your brain, his lips roaming your skin in a way you couldn't dare call anything less than holy, soft touches and quiet laughs whispering around in your head. A bubble of pure home that you could no longer fit in.
Your skin was on fire, fingertips buzzing from anticipation, when you finally, finally looked up at him. Into his eyes that held a storm you were already far lost in. Immediate regret strikes you, not because of him but because it's him. You stumble backwards, a sharp gasp leaving you when he reaches out to steady you. Reaching blindly for the doorknob, you make a run for it, not even pausing to consider you might get caught. The only thing your senses could comprehend was Sirius, as much as the withering logical side of you wanted to reject it, make it not so. As much as you wished the anxiety sparking your veins for some godforsaken reason would subside.
By the grace of some god the hallway was empty, and you took off for your dormitory, huffing under hurried steps. And even when you got there, you kept pacing around the room like a caged animal, hands not knowing what to do with themselves.
Why was he so difficult to be around out of the blue? It was easy to be friends with him before, why not now? Why did you suddenly feel like dying whenever you saw his face? Why was it that a friendship that had endured years of hardships suddenly so fragile?
After a while your body fell victim to the physical exhaustion of your labored breathing and pacing, and you flopped onto the bed, curling up and staring at your toes in deep thought.
Your train of thought was chugging around aimlessly in your skull, and it was making your head ache. You wanted to sleep but God knew it would evade you for a long while, so you attempted to organize whatever sense you had into understanding.
. . .
1971
"Hey!"
You glanced around, wondering if the shout was meant for you. A young boy you'd seen parading around Hogwarts for the better half of the semester came trotting up to you.
He pointed at your hand, resting atop the pages of your textbook. "How did you do that?"
You looked down. Your fingernails were painted a maroon color. "What, my nails?"
"Yeah! How'd you color them?"
"Nail polish." You replied simply.
"You mean you have some here?" His eyes widened in fascination.
You nodded, closing your book.
The boy looked around, as if he were about to tell you a secret. "Can I borrow some?"
You tipped your head, glancing to his fingertips which appeared to be, quite messily, painted black. "Don't you already have some?"
The boy looked down at his hands, then held them up to show you. "No, I had to use a muggle pen. I think Remus called it a Shar-pie." He pronounced the last word slowly. "They don't get the color on as neatly as real polish, and none of the girls want to let me borrow theirs."
You frowned, put your book aside. "Give me one minute." You held up one finger, then scurried up the stairway into your dormitory. Once you'd grabbed the bottle, you stomped back down, ignoring the barks of "quiet down!" from the older years. You held it up in triumph for the boy to see. His face lit up once he saw you extend it to him.
"Wow, thank you!" The boy took the bottle, examining it fondly, almost as if he couldn't believe he was actually holding it. "My name is Sirius, by the way."
"I know," you smiled. "I've seen you and your friends around."
"Oh, yeah. We're the Marauders." Sirius puffed his chest out proudly.
"The Marauders?" You wrinkled your nose. "What kind of a silly name is that?"
"It's not silly!" He shouted, demeanor immediately changing to defensive.
You sense you've hurt his pride. You hold your hands up in defense. "Merlin, okay. I'm sorry."
He relaxes, but still eyes you in judgment. He opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but someone much older and taller than you both comes trotting your way with much importance. You noticed Sirius stow the bottle in his pocket with a surprisingly smooth haste.
"What are you two doing up? It's far too late. Off to bed, both of you!"
"You can't boss me around! You're not a teacher!" Sirius looked up at the older boy with indignance, nose wrinkled up a bit.
"I, Mr. Black, happen to be a Prefect." The boy held his head high, quite literally looking down his nose at Sirius.
Sirius didn't seem to be fazed by the title, but he stuck his tongue out at the Prefect and turned on his heel towards the stairs of the boys' dormitory. Before leaving, however, he whipped around and faced you.
"Thanks." He gave you a cheeky grin, then scampered up the stairs.
. . .
1972
"Hey!"
You glanced around, wondering if the shout was meant for you. Once you saw a familiar, beaming face, you knew it was. Sirius' hair had been cut shorter over the summer, but it still flapped around his head as he bound towards you.
"Sirius!" You yelped as he embraced you, attempting to pick you up, but he wasn't quite so strong. Once he let go, you noticed he was bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"So, did you bring them?"
You patted your satchel. "Yup. All ten colors."
Sirius fist pumped the air, grabbing your hand and yanking you down the hall.
"Where are we going?" You shouted, gripping your bag in hopes it didn't fall off your shoulder.
"Where do you think?"
"Right now?"
"Right now!"
And so you wound up here. Sitting on the floor of a tiny broom closet painting your friend's nails.
"You know, you really ought not use Sharpie if you're going to keep picking your nails."
"It's not like I have my own. And my Mum gets them professionally done so I can't steal hers." Sirius retorted. You hummed, resigned to watching the brush of the polish, this time a peachy color, flow over the bed of his nail. It only slightly failed to wholly cover the still-messy black coloring, which had nudged onto his cuticles and fingertips a bit in the process. His nails were also uneven and very short, enough to look uncomfortable.
"Well, it's done." You tugged out your wand, murmuring a spell. You tapped the color on the boy's nails, confirming that they'd dried properly.
Sirius held them up, examining the job. "They're beautiful, as always." You grinned. Your friend always adored when you painted his nails. They were nothing fancy, but you were glad they made him happy. Sirius put his hands delicately to the ground to push himself up to stand, only to crouch back down to look through the peephole of the broom closet. Once he'd deemed it clear, he stepped out, gesturing for you to follow.
The hallway was a crisp cool, a strange contrast to the bright sunlight outside. Sirius grasped your hand, and you nearly gasped. If a teacher caught two second years holding hands, you thought, you'd surely be expelled for public indecency.
His touch was freezing, but his hold emitted nothing but warmth.
. . .
1975
"Hey!"
You glanced around, wondering if the shout was meant for you. It was James, a friend of Sirius' whom you'd become quite close to.
"Have- huh- have you seen- hah- Sirius?" James was hunched over, hands on his knees, panting as though he'd been doing laps all around the castle.
"No, why?"
"We can't find him anywhere." James wipes a sheen of perspiration from his forehead, taking his glasses off to wipe more from the bridge of his nose.
You stood, making a beeline for the east corridor without saying a word. James doesn't seem to follow, actually sprinting in the opposite direction.
After scaling stairways and crossing corridors, you came upon an unassuming but familiar door. Glancing around, you knock thrice before opening the door.
It was dark, as you expected. Once the door was shut, only faint light from the keyhole illuminated the tiny closet. Curled up into a tiny ball was Sirius Black, most uncharacteristically so. He looked up immediately, almost flinching into himself at the sound of the door clicking shut.
"Sirius?" You sat cross-legged across from him, attempting to give him space even in the crammed room.
"Don't- don't-" Sirius seemed to be gasping for air. You shushed him. "I'm here. Just breathe, don't talk."
Sirius sat, trembling, staring at his hands, willing himself not to pick at them. The red spots around the sides of his nails still stung if he stared long enough.
The time that passed might have been the longest and the most baffling you'd spent up to that point. You opted to stare at your hands, unsure if your stare would make Sirius more anxious. You stole glances at his figure from time to time, and each time it felt like pulling your gaze from a car crash. In all the years you'd known Sirius Orion Black, he always seemed so... indomitable. Like nothing could stop him. But right now he seemed a shell of himself, jumping at every small movement and glancing around wildly.
When the gasps and hiccups and whimpers had passed into soft breathing, Sirius finally looked up at you, chapped lips pressed together.
"Do you want to talk?" You asked softly.
Sirius took in a long breath. "I don't want to go back."
You knew what he meant in an instant. It was nearing summertime. You'd heard Sirius talk about his family many times before. It was times like these that reminded both of you that it was real, that it actually hurt him. He only ever mentioned his home life under the context of a laugh, even if he was the only one laughing. Telling stories about how he got the scar under his chin from the swipe of his mother's claws like it was an old war tale, teasing his younger brother. He always made himself seem unstoppable, even he believed it.
You nodded, reaching a tentative finger out to brush against his fingernail, tiny slivers of paint the remnants of the neon purple he'd picked off.
Sirius' lip twitched. "I'm going to run away."
"Okay." You said simply. You knew Sirius well enough to get that if he had his mind set on something as important as his home, he's immovable. Nor did you blame him.
He looked up, but said nothing, only stared at you with a mixture of surprise and fondness.
"Make sure you visit me, okay?"
Sirius nodded. "Every week. Make up for the lack of owls every summer, eh?"
You smiled. "Do you think you'll be back at Hogwarts next year?"
Sirius clicked his tongue, looking up at the ceiling. "Maybe. I think they'll be glad to see me gone, my parents. They won't come looking for me." The boy looked down at you again, smiling. "And I reckon I'd miss you too much if I didn't."
A tightness in your chest seemed to release; you breathed out. "I'll miss you too."
Sirius takes your hand and squeezes thrice. Then he glances over to your satchel. "Can I get a fresh coat for the road?"
You smiled, pulling your bag into your lap. "What color?"
Sirius thought for a moment. "Maroon."
. . .
August, 1977
The halls of Hogwarts were buzzing with excitement. Most of it was coming from the first years. You'd been coming here for years- but you'd be lying if you said it didn't thrill you to think that you'd be spending the next nine months here.
As you followed the line of students through the corridor, your mind wandered to the previous years and the memories you'd made. Most of them were some variation of parading through the halls with a select four kids that had for some reason adopted you, partially against your will, into their group. You'd grown to love them- James with his idiotic jokes and cheerful spirit, Remus as the wise anchor and appointed mother of the group, Peter as the supportive confidant, and Sirius as the mischievous flirt.
No, there weren't many like the Marauders.
An assault of various, luring scents snapped you out of your trip down memory lane. You now had your attention focused on the warm light bathing the Great Hall from the candles hovering over the four grand tables stretching from one side of the room to another.
After moving up onto your tiptoes to look over the many heads in front of you, it didn't take long for your eyes to find your typical spot towards the end. Remus was already sitting there with his nose buried in a book, so much so that it looked as though there was a mop of unruly chestnut hair growing from the pages.
Just as you began to step towards the table, you were jolted by two hands coming up from behind to rest on either shoulder. You were shocked for about half a second before you opened your mouth to yelp and were met with a familiar scent that you'd come to know belonged to none other than-
"Sirius Orion Black!" You half laughed, half scolded when the head of your attacker peeped out from over your shoulder, mirth-filled eyes meeting yours.
"In the flesh." He grinned, stepping back to fall in line and walk with you. The two of you fell easily into light conversation, witty remarks and laughs tossed back and forth.
In the few moments you'd had to look at him, you were taken aback. He looked different. His hair was longer, brushing against his shoulders and still silky and ad-worthy as always. His skin seemed clearer, eyes brighter despite the bags under them. Something life with the Potters had earned him, you supposed. As you knew from experience, summer days at James' house far surpassed those at Sirius'. But you could still detect the worry under his eyes, in regard to his younger brother, no doubt.
But that was a story for another time. You were safe at Hogwarts, and right now that was enough.
The raven-haired boy and you had found your place at the Gryffindor table, you sitting across from Remus where Sirius opted to sit beside him, ruffling his hair as he walked behind the boy.
Now that you could see Sirius properly (and discreetly), you took a moment to drink him in. Despite having a hair tie around his wrist, his ebony locks still remained free, a few draping over his face and remaining there even after he tucks them behind an ear or blows them away. His eyes were alive as he spoke to Remus, hands moving animatedly to express more dramatically the story he was telling. His teeth, though the light in the room was a warm yellow, were pearly white, and when he smirked wide enough you could see his distinct canines gleam, as though they wanted to show off how surprisingly sharp they were.
Somewhere along the line, Sirius glanced over to you a few times. You thanked Merlin he was already telling a story, so it wasn't unusual for you to be watching him.
"Well, if it isn't three of my favorite people!" The telltale bellow of James Potter sounded a small ways away. You turned your head a bit to notice the bespectacled boy approaching your table, Peter following in his wake in a much less attention-attracting manner.
"Prongs! Haven't seen you since this afternoon!" Sirius laughed, standing and clapping his friend on the back. Peter greeted his friends with a more timid and calm manner, seating himself on the other side of Remus, who seemed to be conflicted between annoyance and happiness.
James plopped rather animatedly beside you, slapping his hands on the table in a way that showed he had something important to say. "Since some of us-" he gave a pointed look to you- "were in a different cabin on the train, I'll give a rundown of this year's festivities."
"Festivities," Remus snorted, resting his cheek in his palm, "that's one way to put it."
James ignored his friend's comment, proceeding to explain in full detail the plan he and Sirius had hatched for a first-night prank. While you knew any idea that popped into the mind of James Potter was sure to land you in detention, you listened, and you had to say it was quite funny.
"This is our year," was the last thing the Chaser was able to say- which he said every year- before being interrupted by the sound of a spoon clinking against a glass abnormally loudly, followed by the voice of the headmaster beginning his routine back to school speech.
You'd heard Dumbledore give this speech many times, so you weren't particularly missing out on anything when your eyes wandered to the boy who'd jump scared you earlier. He was listening, or at least pretending to. His chin was resting on his arms, which were folded on the table, so that his eyes were turned upwards so that he could watch through his eyelashes in a little pout.
Damn.
Wait, huh?
. . .
September, 1977
Though you'd rolled the question around in your head for days, you'd still yet to come to a definite answer. Moreover, the flirting certainly hadn't stopped. The worst part of it was when the you'd been lounging in the boys' dormitory one lazy afternoon. James was busy with Quidditch practice and Remus was in the library so that left you, Sirius, and Peter.
You couldn't recall ever having wishing Peter to leave so insistently.
"The hell is my Honeydukes bag? Could've sworn I had it..." Sirius was rummaging through his impossibly unorganized nightstand, searching for the bag of sweets he always kept stashed in the top drawer.
"Prongs finished off the last of it, mate." Peter said with an apologetic look.
Sirius gave a dramatic groan, slamming the drawer shut. "Going to wring his dumb neck."
"If you want something sweet I'm sure the house elves would fix something." You offered.
Sirius flopped back onto the bed. "But that's so far."
Peter jumped to his feet. "I can get it for you!"
Sirius draped his arm over his eyes. "Thanks, Wormy."
Peter scurried out the door, leaving the two of you alone. Despite the nonchalance with which Sirius always carried himself, he had become intensely more aware of your presence. The two of you were the best of friends, and that would never change, but why did he feel nervous?
"What d'you suppose he's so eager for?"
Sirius shrugged, sitting up. "Probably guilty because he finished it off with James 'n doesn't wanna say it."
You hummed, uncrossing your legs when one foot had fallen asleep, and flopped back onto the bed.
What you hadn't expected was for Sirius to lean over and place a hand beside your shoulder, caging you in under him. Strands of his hair fell from behind his ear, shading his face. His eyes gleamed with amusement and radiated lust that you weren't sure was genuine or humorous.
"Hey."
"Hi." You weren't sure what to say to that. He seemed to just be admiring you, but why would he do that? You'd never seen him do that before.
"What time are you due at the library?"
You didn't know what to expect, but that certainly wasn't one of your guesses. It took you a moment to process before you answered, "Four thirty."
"Ah, good. Get you all to m'self for a bit." Sirius propped himself up on his elbows, hair now tickling your forehead and face extremely close to yours. You sincerely hoped your face wasn't tomato red as his eyes drank you in.
"Y'alright?" There was sincerity and genuine concern in his tone. Had he gone too far?
"Yeah. Just watching you."
"Oh?" Sirius cocked a brow.
"Mhm. Seeing what you're doing." Your eyes were stuck on his lips. He had damn nice looking lips, you'd learned over the past few days, and they looked even nicer up close. Tempting, even.
"And what am I doing, exactly?"
You weren't sure when this had crossed the line of comedy and become genuine flirting, or at least that's what it felt like to you, but Christ was it different when he was doing it to you. You'd seen him flirt with classmates before, but having his gaze trained on you, his voice low, his entire attention on you was exhilarating. You liked it.
The question seemed to have gotten lost somewhere in the air as the two of you simply stared at each other, eyes going from eyes to pink cheeks to lips. You could have sworn he was leaning in.
What was unmistakable was the hand shifting from the bed to your jawline. It was surreal, like you'd stumbled into a dream. Somewhere along the line you learned you'd fallen asleep, and somewhere along the line you realized you liked this dream.
You liked it very much.
. . .
October, 1977
There he was in the common room, sat on the couch in front of the fire, with you under his arm reading a book, nobody else around, and he still hadn't made a move. His fingers were playing with your hair, while his free hand held a cookie from the plate of sweets sitting on the table beside him.
"Alright, I ought to stop here before I fall down a rabbit hole that costs me my nights' sleep." You pulled the bookmark into the seam and closed your book, heaving yourself up and placing the novel in your bag.
"Aw, must you go?" Sirius false pouted, standing up as well.
"Yes, I must. I’m tired.” You smiled at him wearily, but he didn’t seem to be having it. He stood face to face with you, towering over you with that same closeness that had your breath hitching in your throat.
“Kiss goodnight?”
He wasn’t backing away. He was just staring at you with those goddamn eyes that taunted you and frustrated you and intoxicated you all at once. He wore his telltale smirk, though it was softened.
“Sure,” you finally said, though your heart could have tore through your ribcage at that.
Sirius hooked a finger under your chin, thumb on your chin to pull you forwards. Your blood was pounding in your ears.
Until he stopped suddenly, giving a soft chuckle before stepping away.
“Shame, then.” He smirked.
Oh, no he didn’t. Just as he was turning to leave you dumbfounded and breathless, you grabbed his tie and pulled him forward to kiss you before he had the chance. Teeth knocked and breath was knocked out of lungs, but he responded quickly, hands moving to cup your face. It was oddly gentle, the way he was holding you. Your free hand went to his shoulder, clutching him towards you. Thoughts escaped you in the moment, your focus locked on Sirius’ practiced mouth working on yours, his tongue slipping in your mouth and finding yours.
Sirius held with with a surprising softness, despite his obvious and overwhelming need for you. His hands trailed gently from your cheeks to your shoulders, down to the waist.
Suddenly it hit you. You weren't sure why, but his hands on your waist ignited a thought in you.
You were making out with your best friend.
You liked it. So damn much.
. . .
October, 1977
"Still think the flirting meant nothing?" Remus cocked a brow, smiling.
"Well now I don't think it's nothing." You threw your hands up incredulously.
"Fair. How do you feel about him flirting with you?"
"I like it." You blurted, perhaps a little too quickly.
"Then flirt back."
"But he's my friend, Moony, I can't. If I play it off as a joke he'll start taking it that way and we can just stay friends without having to worry about any tension or drama."
"Is that what you want?"
You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You chewed your lip.
"Do you want my advice?"
You nodded.
"I'd advise you to test it out while it's still early. Go for it now before you get emotionally attached to him."
"I just said he's my friend," you rolled your eyes, "I'm already emotionally attached to him."
"I meant in a romantic way." He said evenly, undeterred by your attitude. "If I know Sirius, he knows how to act casual. He's your best friend, he's not going to stop talking to you or anything."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've seen him behave that way with his previous, ahem, playmates. He's a heartthrob, not a heartbreaker." Remus noted the change in your expression, and added, "no, he is not involved with anyone else as far as I know."
You sighed, slumping back in your chair.
What harm could it do?
. . .
October, 1977
The quiet was something exceedingly rare when you were close to Sirius, but you relished in it now. Time didn't exist in scenes like this, everything just was.
The dormitory was quiet, the other Gryffindor boys in Sirius' year nowhere to be found. Sirius' head was resting in your lap, his eyes closed. His lashes twitched over his cheeks softly, and the only sound was his soft snores.
You glanced over at his neck, where splotches of various color were littered over his fair skin. Courtesy of you, of course; you touched a finger over one of them delicately, smiling to yourself. A remainder of events that had taken place just before breakfast that same day.
You and Sirius had never gone below the belt, not that you hadn't teased the line. He always made sure he stayed with you after your endeavors, a courtesy you appreciated deeply; one thing you knew for certain about Sirius, was that if he loved someone, they knew it.
And you knew it.
. . .
Present day
You couldn't track just when you had begun to question your relationship with Sirius. You sighed, resting an arm over your eyes.
Memories racked your brain. Sneaking around in that damn broom closet that seemed to follow you around- a godsend then, a haunting now. How the memory of Sirius always seemed to follow you around, a stain you kept finding on all of your favorite clothes. The irony of Remus' joking warning, "don't catch feelings".
You tired of circling around each other. You tired of not having him. Not in the way you used to, not in the way he wanted to, and now, you did too.
After much fighting against the notion you'd now come to terms with, one thought and one thought alone lay with you as you finally found sleep.
You loved him too, damn it.
~
@planets-and-stars @ourheartsofsteel @canthavetoomuchcoffee @shadowbriar
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six coming soon!
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